


Best Laid Plans

by marieadriana



Series: ARROW, Inc. [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Protective Maria Hill, Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 41
Words: 96,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marieadriana/pseuds/marieadriana
Summary: ** The sexual assault in this story is not depicted "on-screen" and is not described in graphic detail.  That being said, there is discussion of the event as well as the recovery from it.Maria Hill is forced to spend two weeks away from SHIELD as a consequence of losing her temper in the sparring ring -- but she doesn't wind up spending it alone.  (Takes place in February 2012.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RomanoffonamoR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanoffonamoR/gifts).



Deputy Directory Maria Hill could handle damn near anything. Terrorist attack? No problem. Imminent threat of invasion? Piece of cake. High caliber pistol pointed in her direction? Child’s play.

Being ordered to take a vacation? Kryptonite.

She reread the email for the ninth time. Director Fury, upon strong recommendations from Medical and Psych, was ordering her to take two weeks off, paid vacation. Immediately.

Unwritten but implied was that if she didn’t take the vacation, it would rapidly become a suspension.

She gritted her teeth. She’d spent two days in Psych fending off questions about her little discussion with Agent Verley in the sparring ring. She had refused point-blank to tell them what comment had sparked her to challenge him – and apparently, he hadn’t repeated it either, or there’d have been a considerably different tone to the questions.

It had started as perfectly ordinary trash talking. They’d insulted each other’s taste in beer, their scores on the range, their comparative military histories – she was a Marine, he’d been in the Air Force – before he’d decided to comment on her relationship status.

Specifically, her relationship with Agent Coulson.

Her alleged sexually inappropriate liaison with Agent Coulson.

And when that hadn’t gotten the reaction he’d wanted, he added the jibe that he wouldn’t be surprised if one or more of the Scoobies were involved in these extracurricular activities, or why else would Agent Summers spend so much time with Agent Coulson?

That had gotten her fist in his face, and she’d kept attacking long after he’d called quit – Agent Sitwell had been forced to restrain her.

To his credit, Agent Verley hadn’t protested. He seemed to know he’d crossed the line, and hadn’t wanted Sitwell to report the incident. Unfortunately, given that she’d shattered his cheekbone, it wasn’t something that could be kept quiet.

Hence her interrogation by Psych. They knew he’d said something to cause her to react like that, but not what. They wanted to know what. They wanted to know if she was a loose cannon, or if Agent Verley should be written up for instigating it. Psych was not happy not to know… and thus, she was ordered to take a vacation – long enough for the worst of his visible physical damage to heal, and hopefully for whatever caused her explosion to blow over.

And of course, because it was an ordered vacation, none of the people she wanted to spend it with were off.

~ * ~

Maria knocked on Phil’s office door and pushed it open at his invitation. She closed it behind her, locked the deadbolt, and leaned back against it.

Phil’s eyebrow lifted when he saw who it was, and the second eyebrow joined its fellow when Maria locked the door. Personal, then. He rose, slipped out of his suit jacket, and hung it on the back of his chair. “Maria? What is it?”

“You haven’t heard from Fury?”

“Heard what? Are you alright?” He crossed to her immediately, putting a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t immediately respond, he used that hand to pull her into a hug. “Talk to me, Ria, you’re worrying me.”

“Sorry.” She tucked her head against his shoulder, letting herself be comforted. She didn’t, often – and by very few people. The man holding her was one of them, even before this wacky druid clanship thing. Granted, before Catriona had come and merrily disrupted their lives he’d have done it with a beer and not a hug, but… 

He squeezed her again, one hand cupping the back of her head. “What am I going to hear from Fury?”

“Two weeks mandatory vacation,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “And if he catches me working, it’ll be two more – suspended.”

“I’m sorry.” Phil wanted to point out that to most people, mandatory vacation would be a good thing – but he understood Maria well enough to know that it wasn’t, for her. “What are you going to do?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t… staying home alone seems like a bad idea, but… I don’t know what else to do. I don’t have any friends outside SHIELD, and none of the rest of you are off, so…”

“Do you want me to contact Catriona, see if she’s free?”

“No!” She tensed in his arms and he released her immediately. “No, I don’t want to bother her.”

Phil raised an eyebrow but didn’t address that. “Is it not wanting to be alone, or not wanting to be at loose ends that’s bothering you?”

“Both,” she admitted quietly. The idea of two weeks with no clear goal – no mission, no guidelines, just herself – wasn’t appealing. It was downright terrifying.

He reached for her hand and tugged her to sit down on the couch. “I have a suggestion, if you’re amenable.”

“You know I always listen to you.”

Phil crossed one leg, resting his ankle on his knee. “We need some… discreet investigating done. Fury knows more than he should about my visit home last year – and probably this year as well. We don’t know how. He doesn’t know everything – but he knows more than he should. Who told him Catriona was at the Inn last year? We didn’t invite her until we were already there – it wasn’t planned. And why would he know she was there, but not know about our marriage? We weren’t subtle – the three of us went out with my sister Darla’s family, and were noticed plenty by the townsfolk… why wouldn’t he know that?”

Maria chewed on her lip. That was an intriguing mystery. “Why me?”

“Frankly, because you’re free – and because Fury won’t expect it. You can go to the Inn and ask questions, and it’s just you on vacation, prying into a friend’s life. Fury – or whoever is feeding him information – won’t know it’s because we asked you to. You’d want to tell my Mom, probably – because good luck keeping a secret from her – but otherwise, I’d think it’d be covert investigation.”

Her brows furrowed, and she stared piercingly at him. “This is busywork, isn’t it?”

He laughed. “Partly. It’s true we could investigate most of it from here – if Fury’s got sources in Manitowoc, Angie can probably find digital communications. But it’s not entirely – I do want someone other than myself to clear my family.” His expression darkened, but not with anger. “If one of my family members is speaking out of turn…”

“Yeah, I got it.” She sighed. “Okay. Give me your mom’s contact information, and I’ll get started.”

~ * ~


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t a bad drive, as drives went. February probably wasn’t the ideal time to be traversing these highways, but the SUV she’d borrowed from Natasha – because SHIELD wouldn’t authorize the use of one for her vacation – handled it without incident.

Given that the vehicle was Natasha’s, it was a few steps up from the fleet cars she normally drove. Natasha outfitted almost every vehicle she controlled with a state-of-the-art navigation system, communications rig, sound system, and heated seats.

Everything made sense to Maria except the seats. Did Natasha just get really cold when driving? She couldn’t spend that much time in cars in the winter, could she? Granted, it was nice to slide into the driver’s seat and have it not be the rock-hard, frozen lump she was used to… maybe that was it. Not that they were heated, but that they were softer.

She stopped for lunch at a diner Phil had recommended, and watched the truckers come and go. None of them gave her a second glance, and she wasn’t sure if that bothered her. She wasn’t dressed to attract attention – jeans and a faded Marine Corps t-shirt, with her hair pulled back in a pony-tail – but there were other women in the diner dressed the same way, and eyes seemed to fixate on them plenty. Why not her?

Maria decided not to think about it. Instead, she ordered a large coffee to go, packed up her leftover pie, and paid the ticket. The waitress who’d served her handed the change with a coquettish smile and exaggerated flutter of eyelashes, and Maria froze. The waitress immediately wiped the expression from her face. Maria tipped her – well, but not extravagantly – and returned to the SUV.

As she got back on to the highway, the image of the waitress bothered her. Why had she smiled? No one else had smiled at Maria – and she hadn’t smiled at anyone. Was she just angling for a good tip? Or had that been a Misty-smile?

She flicked on the radio after another hour of silence, but couldn’t settle on a station. The reception was crap on most of them – she hadn’t bothered to turn on Natasha’s no-doubt-illegal amplified receiver – and she managed to hit commercials or talk shows on the few that came in clearly.

A chirpy advertisement caused her to swear with enough force the SUV swerved.

“Have you found the perfect gift for your special someone this Valentine’s Day? Don’t be a last-minute shopper – visit Kendra’s Floral and Gift Shop to select something that will make them swoon! There are only twelve days left!”

Maria snapped off the radio and glared at it. No fucking way did she want to shop for a special someone – she didn’t even have a special someone! God, she hated Valentine’s Day. She’d heard some SHIELD agents call it Single Awareness Day, and at the moment she was in wholehearted agreement with them. Damn it! She couldn’t even bury herself in work and ignore it! Instead, she was driving to what was probably a pretty damned romantic bed and breakfast, where she’d be keeping company with Phil’s happily married parents and his happily married sister. (There was something important about the sister, but she was too upset to recall it.)

Fuck. She hoped there’d be plenty of booze.

She was working up a pretty good wallow of misery when her phone rang. She touched her earpiece – glad she’d grabbed it, because she really didn’t want to have to ask a local LEO for professional courtesy if she got pulled over for looking at her phone – and answered it. “Hill.”

“Hey. It’s Misty.”

Something she didn’t want to examine relaxed in Maria. “Hi.”

“Sensei told me the Director benched you. I’m calling in solidarity. You want me to go break Verley’s other cheekbone?”

A laugh bubbled up, startling her. She didn’t laugh often, and it always felt surprising. “Not unless it would get you exiled with me. Solo vacation time sucks.”

“Hey, if I thought it would work, I’d be game,” Misty said cheerfully. “Unfortunately, as I’m considerably less valuable to SHIELD than your deputy-Director self, I figure it’d be more likely to get me a permanent vacation.” Maria could hear the grin, picturing the sparkling green eyes. “Still – offer’s open.”

“I don’t really think you should get fired just to make me feel better,” Maria said dryly.

“Yeah, okay.” There was something odd in Misty’s tone, but she didn’t pause long enough for Maria to really consider it. “How about if I sic Angie on him, plant a bunch of porn on his computer? Ooo, I know – you know she found that skin flick with the dude that looks like Fury?” Misty cackled gleefully. “How about if that suddenly starts to play on his computer every time he opens it?”

“You are evil,” Maria said solemnly. “I love it.”

Misty cackled again, and Maria found herself grinning foolishly. “So… how are you doing?” Misty asked in a more serious tone.

Maria sighed. “I’m going to be stuck on vacation in Wisconsin on Valentine’s Day.”

There was a long pause. “Did you have plans?”

“What? No!” Maria shot a glance at her phone as if expecting Misty to see it. “No, I just… I normally work overtime around it.”

“Ah.” She heard a rustling noise in the background. “I guess I get to do that this year too. No rest for the wicked.”

“Did… you… have plans?” Maria found herself asking.

“No.” Misty sounded… wistful? Maria wanted to stare at the phone, but kept her eyes on the road. “Been a long time since I had V-Day plans. Actually, I think the last time I wasn’t single for it was back when I was dating False Phil.”

“Dating who?”

Misty laughed, but it was strained. “Sorry. That’s what Clint calls my ex – the one named Phil, obviously. He… that’s why I don’t call Sensei that. I… don’t talk about him, much.”

“Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

Maria tapped the steering wheel. “Do you want to talk about him? I mean, you don’t have to, but… I’ve got a couple more hours on the road, and I’m all ears.”

Misty was quiet long enough that Maria checked the display to make sure the call was still connected. “He thought I was the love of his life, and… I wasn’t.” Misty’s voice was just above a whisper. “I… hurt him. I didn’t mean to – I didn’t know… hell.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Maria soothed immediately. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No. No, it’s okay.” Misty swallowed, breathed in noisily. “I’ve never actually told anyone.” Maria’s eyebrows shot up. “I mean, my Mom knows – knew – what’s the proper tense for somebody who knows a thing, but can’t remember it anymore? Whatever – and the friends I had at the time, of course, but… never felt ready to talk about it.”

“Guess that means you’re maturing, bunny.”

“Guess so. God, being a mature adult sucks ass.” Maria chuckled. “Yeah, I wasn’t mature then – we were in college. Well.” She sounded embarrassed. “I was in college. He… wasn’t.”

“Oh?”

There was another rustle of noise, and a sigh. “Yeah, he was. Um. A professor,” Misty squeaked. “My professor.”

“Damn,” Maria breathed. “Talk about complicated.”

“Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the complicated part,” Misty sighed.

Maria raised an eyebrow, glancing at the phone before forcing her attention back on the road. “You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“You’re going to hate me, by the end of the story.” Misty sounded… sad? Resigned? Maria couldn’t tell for sure. “I hate me for most of it. Alright.” She took a deep breath. “He was married.”

Oh. Ouch. “Okay.”

“And. Um. Had a daughter my age. We were on the volleyball team together.”

“Wait – you slept with married professor father of a teammate?!” Maria’s eyes were wide.

“I told you you’d hate me.”

Her very soft, very sad statement made Maria pull back. “I don’t hate you, bunny. You just… surprised me. You’re not that girl anymore.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact, Summers,” Maria said, as sharply as she thought Misty could handle right now. She was awed and a little frightened to be the recipient of such confidences – people didn’t confide in her. Confess, sure. Perps spilled their guts to her all the time, but this was different. Misty made another noise, and Maria thought she might have been stifling a sob. God, how long had she kept this a secret? “That all of it? Or is there another plot twist?”

Misty forced a laugh. “There’s more. We… got caught. He lost his job. And his wife.” Maria hoped her gasp wasn’t audible to Misty. “Okay, it wasn’t getting caught that cost him his wife – he. Um. Left her for me. And I… I couldn’t. I didn’t… I was just having fun, you know?” She sounded so lost. “I was so young, and so stupid.”

“At least nobody died from your young and stupid,” Maria said, trying to stuff her bitterness down. “Broken marriage, bad decision, yeah – but there’s dead Marines in my young and stupid. And no – I can’t talk about it. I just… I can’t.” Maria swiped at her eyes. She hadn’t intended to say even that much, but the naked honesty in Misty’s voice demanded something in return. “I don’t talk about mine, either.”

Misty sniffled. “Okay. You change your mind, I owe you one.”

“Okay.” Maria took a deep breath. “Damn. I need a drink.”

“Do me a favor, and wait until you’re not driving?” Misty asked. She probably meant it to sound like a joke, Maria thought, but there was too much emotion in her voice still.

“Yeah, I will.” Maria looked over at the phone again. “You going to be okay?”

Misty sounded tired when she answered. “Not like it’s new, Ria.” The nickname squeezed at Maria’s heart – Misty didn’t use it often. Phil did, sometimes – Clint usually did. “Sorry. I called to buck you up, and instead I dragged you down.”

“You didn’t.” Maria fought for the right words. “It’s… nice… that you can tell me stuff.” God, that sounded lame. “I’m glad you trusted me with something that personal, bunny. I know it’s not easy. I like knowing I can tell you stuff, too.” That was better.

“So do I.” She was quiet a moment. “I should go. I’m supposed to be running intel for sensei.”

Maria wanted to chastise her for putting off her work, but she was so damned glad that Misty had called. “Keep your ear to the ground.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She hung up the phone feeling better – despite the weight in her chest that had landed when Misty told her tale. Damn, the girl was still hurting over that, and it couldn’t be recent. She was two years into her contract at SHIELD, so it was at least that long ago – probably longer. No wonder she couldn’t use Phil’s name, not with that hanging over her. She was carrying a hell of a lot of guilt.

Maria was surprised, too, at how close she’d come to telling Misty her own young and stupid story. Even in her own mind, she shied away from the memories – but if she managed to speak of it, it’d be Misty she told.

She was still pondering that when she pulled up to the Rainbow Inn, noting the brightly striped flag flying below the stars and stripes. She slung her duffel over one shoulder and took the front steps two at a time, but the door was opened before she could reach for the handle.

“You must be Maria. Come in! I’m Diane.” She gestured Maria into the house. “Are there more bags in the car?”

“No, ma’am.” She hadn’t expected to face Phil’s mother quite so soon… surely she’d have been shunted to a clerk or something. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”

“Nonsense.” Diane beamed at her. “No friend of Phil’s is a bother in this house. Lily! Rose!” She turned her head to call up the stairs. “Come take care of Maria’s bag!”

“Oh, I can—” Maria protested.

Diane shot her a quelling look. “Nonsense.” She gestured imperiously, and Maria handed over her duffel without further protest. Two nearly identical blonde girls appeared, trotting obediently down the stairs. “Girls, this is Maria – Maria, this is Rosalie and Lilabeth.”

“Hi!” Lily said, and darted forward for a hug before Maria could protest.

She patted the girl’s shoulder awkwardly. “Uhh… hi.” Maria fought the squirm, but the unexpected physical contact ratcheted her unease up several more levels.

Lily released her and stepped back, eyes intent on Maria. “Sorry. I should have asked first.”

Maria wondered if that piercing, knowing gaze was a Coulson trait before remembering that the girls were adopted. “It’s okay.” She twitched under the combined scrutiny.

“What room is she in, Grandma?” Rose asked, pulling Maria’s duffel on to her shoulder.

Diane’s eyes traveled over Maria again, and the agent wondered what the hell she was looking for. Her clothes were clean – nothing special, but clean – and she’d packed away her weapons, so what was she trying to see? Whatever it was, she seemed to find. “Put her in the Yellow room, lovey,” Diane announced with a sharp nod. Lily didn’t follow her twin upstairs – they’d exchanged one of those glances like Clint and Natasha used, and Rose had gone up alone. “Are you hungry, Maria?”

She debated. Lunch had been a number of hours ago, but meeting strangers like this had knotted her stomach and she wasn’t sure if she could eat. “Maybe a snack?”

Lily held out her hand – didn’t grab for Maria’s, just offered her own. After a moment, Maria accepted it. “Uncle Clint likes a blueberry muffin with butter for a snack – would you like one?”

“That sounds good.”

The blonde girl led her into a large, open room. It was dominated by a massive dining table that probably sat a dozen or more people when fully laden. The dining area adjoined the kitchen, with an open floor plan that let whoever was cooking see and interact with the entirety of the rest of the room. Lily released her hand to open a wooden bread box, revealing two neat baskets of baked goods. She plucked a muffin from one, split it with a butter knife, and popped it into some sort of kitchen gadget Maria didn’t recognize. “What are you doing?”

“Toasting it,” Lily answered. “That’s a toaster oven. It’s better for baked stuff – and you can cook in it, if the oven’s taken up.” It dinged, and she removed the pastry with a fork. A butter dish was produced and slid onto the counter next to the plate containing the muffin. 

Maria sat down on a stool at the counter where Lily indicated. “I’ve heard a lot about you, you know,” Maria said somewhat shyly as she buttered the muffin. “Natasha talks about you a lot. So does Catriona.”

Lily beamed. “That’s cool. I’ve heard a bunch about you, too. I’m glad you came to visit.”

“It’s better than being stuck alone in my apartment,” Maria grumbled, then froze. “Sorry, that was – I didn’t mean I didn’t want to be here, just…”

“It’s okay.” Lily patted her hand. “Uncle Phil told us you didn’t choose to take a vacation, that Director Fury made you. I figure that’s kind of like being forced to read a book you like. You want to read it, but it sucks that someone else is making you do it.”

Maria blinked. “Yeah. Exactly.” The whole triad had warned her that the twins were older than their years, but the girl’s understanding still surprised her. She bit into the muffin and groaned. “Damn, this is good.” Crap, she probably wasn’t supposed to swear around the kid. “Sorry for the language.”

“I’ve heard worse. I’m old enough to know not to repeat it around uncool grownups.” She winked, and snatched a piece of muffin off Maria’s plate. “You’re one of the cool ones, just so you know.”

“How’d I rate that?” Maria had no idea what would cause a twelve-year-old girl to label her ‘cool.’ She sure as hell didn’t think of herself as cool.

She could see the girl debate her answer, and wondered. “You make Uncle Clint smile,” she said finally. “Uncle Phil gets that little happy eye squinch when he talks about you. Auntie Nat trusts you. Those are all wicked good endorsements. Plus, I’ve seen the pics of you in your ducky PJs, and any grownup who owns ducky PJs is cool by me. Did you bring them with you? I dug out my yellow nail polish in case you did.”

Okay, damn. That heart squeeze was unexpected. “Yeah, I brought them.” She’d packed them because they reminded her of their secret agent slumber party, and she wanted to be happy while she was here. She hadn’t expected the girl to know about them, and sure as hell hadn’t expected them to be a mark in her favor. But the comments about the triad… “Happy eye squinch?”

Lily leaned forward and touched the skin at the corner of Maria’s eye, where the very beginnings of crow’s feet were forming. “Right here. He didn’t use to get it at all, unless he was smiling at one of the babies, but now he gets them when he talks about you or the Scoobies, too.”

It was an even better high than being told Natasha trusted her – because she knew what Lily meant. She’d seen it, on Phil’s face, when he talked about his nieces and nephews. She hadn’t expected to ever be the cause of it herself. 

~ * ~


	3. Chapter 3

With Maria in Wisconsin, Phil had twice the amount of administrative backlog to clear – more than, if he were honest. He hadn’t realized how much of the managerial burden Maria shouldered until he’d had to pick up the slack.

Rather than have their husband spend an indefinite amount of extra hours at SHIELD, Natasha and Clint had arbitrarily divided up his tasks between the three of them. They might not be able to sit in on meetings for him, but paperwork didn’t care who filled it out – as long as it was Phil’s signature at the bottom.

Natasha was in Maria’s office with some of her records, and Clint had chosen to occupy a corner of Phil’s desk. They were keeping up a telepathic running commentary – ridiculous jokes shared only to keep the boredom at bay – but kept quiet so as not to disturb Phil’s concentration.

Phil put down his pen and scrubbed at his face. “Remind me to buy Ria a cheesecake,” he said to Clint with a small laugh. “I had no idea how many disciplinary reports she reads, comments on, and forwards to Fury. Or the ones she reviews and rejects.”

“It’s no wonder she’s always willing to spar,” Clint agreed, jotting a note to himself on the pad next to the report. He wanted to look something up before he made his recommendations – and there was too much going on in his brain to trust himself to remember it. “She’s got to get out of her office and hit something, or she’ll commit murder.”

“Given the state of some of these reports, she’d be found not guilty by reason of insanity,” Phil muttered as he rubbed his forehead again. 

A knock at the closed door drew both their attention. Clint rose to open it – since their last venture in sound-proofing, it was no longer possible to just shout at a visitor to come in. Agent Mason Verley stood on the other side, a contrite expression on his colorful face. He was remarkably bruised, Phil decided – the shattered cheekbone had only been the most extreme of the damage Maria had inflicted upon him.

“I wonder if I could have a word, Agent Coulson?” Verley asked politely.

If he’d had a hat in his hands, he’d have twisted it, Phil thought with some amusement. “Of course. Come in.”

Clint pushed the chair he’d been using back into place in front of Phil’s desk as he headed to the electric kettle. “Tea, Agent Verley?” he offered. He dropped a sachet of headache tea into a mug and waited for the water to boil.

“Uh. Sure.” Verley watched him curiously, sitting down in front of Phil’s desk.

Phil hid a smile. They never knew what to make of the tea.

Clint selected a sachet for Natasha and one for Verley, neatly filling the mugs with the boiling water. He handed Verley his and put Phil’s beside his right hand, turning the handle to face him. “I’ll just head down the hall to Agent Romanoff, sir,” Clint told Phil, Natasha’s tea in one hand and a stack of reports in the other.

“Thank you, Agent Barton.” Phil’s lips twitched. The files in Clint’s arms started to slide and Phil righted them immediately, unable to avoid his fingers lingering briefly on his husband’s forearm.

Verley took his tea and sat back in his chair, watching-not-watching the byplay. He’d heard the rumors, of course, but he’d never put much stock in them. He was having to revise that opinion. Barton knew his way around Coulson’s office – knew what tea he drank, how he drank it, and where to put it. He hadn’t missed the little finger brushing, either. And Coulson had damned near smiled at him – and Coulson just didn’t do that.

So. Barton was the Mystery Date, Verley decided. Hill must know – and damned if that didn’t explain Hill’s explosive rage. He’d had no idea, when he threw Coulson’s name out as a potential hook-up, that Coulson actually was involved with a subordinate – he’d just been trying to get a rise out of the Ice Queen. Looks like he couldn’t have picked more wrongly if he’d asked Lucifer himself.

Phil waited until the door shut behind Clint before turning his attention to Verley. “How can I help you, Agent Verley?”

Stronger men than him had quaked under that gaze, Verley knew. “I… uh. I owe you an apology.” Coulson didn’t speak, just lifted his teacup and sipped, his eyes still on Verley. “I’m, uh… not sure what Agent Hill told you, about what I said.” No answer again, but he hadn’t really expected one. “I… um… may have made an accusation of misconduct regarding you and Agent Hill, and Agent Summers.”

Phil let his eyebrows creep up, sitting back in his chair. Well, if that was the case… he understood better why Maria had flown into a near-fatal rage. “You’re lucky she didn’t kill you,” he said calmly.

“I know, sir,” Verley agreed.

“If Sitwell hadn’t responded – ” Phil shook his head. Goddess, if it had been the Scoobies that had walked in on that fight, if they’d known what he suggested…

“I know, sir.” Verley looked down into the mug of tea Barton had handed him – surprisingly tasty stuff. “I’d like to think I’ve learned my lesson.”

Phil sipped his tea. “And what lesson would that be, Agent Verley?”

Verley debated his answer. His first gut reaction was ‘Don’t fight with Hill’ followed shortly by ‘Don’t piss off Hill.’ But he didn’t think either of those were the answer Coulson was looking for. Maybe ‘Don’t spar without a spotter nearby’? ‘Don’t piss off senior officers’?

“Don’t gossip about bedpartners,” Coulson supplied, when the silence stretched out. “Whether it’s a senior officer or not – it’s nobody’s business but the people in the bed.” His tone was firm – not an order, exactly, or at least it didn’t feel like one to Verley. 

He really wanted to ask whether that applied to relationships that violated SHIELD regulations, but he also really didn’t want to have to go back to the medical wing. The look Coulson had given Barton… that wasn’t two bored SHIELD agents banging boots. There was emotion tied up there, and he really didn’t want to find out what happened if you got through the patented Coulson calm to real anger underneath.

It would probably hurt.

A lot.

And he’d had enough bones broken, thank you.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed. “No gossiping from me.” And he sure as fuck wasn’t going to repeat his suspicions about Barton and Coulson – even if Coulson didn’t crack… Barton was crafty. The man had pulled more pranks than any other SHIELD agent, except maybe Romanoff. (The score wasn’t entirely clear on Romanoff, because she didn’t get caught. There were a dozen or more pranks over the years that nobody could pin on anyone, but that just felt like Romanoff.) And assuming that Barton and Coulson were a thing… it was vanishingly unlikely that Romanoff didn’t know. Particularly since it appeared Hill knew – why else would she go into a rage over it? But if Romanoff knew, and Hill knew – no. There was no way he was going to further incite the rage of the four deadliest people in the building.

Oh sure, Fury had power. He had a hell of a skill set, and his resume – even with the redactions – was impressive. But he didn’t show emotion… there was no evidence, in Verley’s mind, that he even felt emotion.

These four… Coulson had a streak of righteousness that would be laughable in somebody else, but that managed instead to pull ops out of the gutter and rescue situations from becoming moral quagmires. Barton would – and had – step in front of a bullet for a teammate, and then brush it off as a minor favor. Romanoff reacted to injuries to her team with a viciousness that was almost animal – he’d seen her break a man’s neck with her bare hands because he’d fired a gun at Barton. Hadn’t even hit him – just fired in his direction. And Hill… she was quiet about it, sure. Liked to pretend she was as formal and controlled as Coulson, and managed it for the most part. But the flurry of blows she’d hit him with in the ring – Jesus, he’d had no idea she had that kind of strength.

“If you’re in contact with Agent Hill while she’s… on vacation,” Verley added as he rose, “would you tell her that I apologized?”

“I will,” Phil assured him, with a polite smile.

~ * ~

That initial interaction with Lily set the tone for Maria’s first few days at the Inn. It surprised her, how easy it was to slide into the rhythm of the household. But then, they were Coulsons – maybe it shouldn’t have come as a shock after all.

She was left to her own devices if she indicated she wanted privacy – but she was welcomed into any gathering or activity that was happening. The one time she’d refused out of a desire not to be an intrusion – and had retreated to the living room to read, feeling lonely – she’d gotten half a chapter in before Lily appeared to ask her opinion on a history question for her homework.

How the girl knew she was lonely, Maria couldn’t guess – but she was damned grateful.

The sticking point was her mothers. Spending time with Sarah and Iris made her twitchy, in a way she didn’t really understand.

Part of it, she was sure, was that Sarah occasionally dropped less-than-complimentary comments about Catriona, and that didn’t sit well with Maria. She wasn’t the only one – the only time she saw Lily be remotely disobedient was the mulish look in her eyes whenever she heard Sarah make a comment about Catriona. 

But Sarah’s dislike of the druid couldn’t be the whole reason. She didn’t get the same kind of twitchy feeling around Fury, and he didn’t just dislike Catriona – he hated her.

She’d been there two nights, and was eating breakfast on the third day, when she realized what it was. And when it clicked, she was pissed at herself for not realizing it sooner.

She was at an LGBT Inn. Spending time daily with a happily married lesbian couple. Listening to stories of other gay and lesbian couples that had stayed at the Inn, with the occasional poly threesome or foursome thrown in for good measure.

If there was an opposite of conversion therapy, that’s what they were doing – Phil, his parents, his sister and sister-in-law, and those damnably perceptive nieces of his.

They had cracked open her closet, and were shining lights into it. Maybe even reaching in, waiting to drag her out of it.

It made her so fucking furious that she could hardly think – so she did what she always did, when she’d reached her limit. She retreated to her room and called Misty.

“Hey, ducks,” Misty greeted when she picked up the call. “How’s life in Wisconsin?”

Maria completely skipped the niceties. “This isn’t a vacation, it’s a fucking intervention.”

Misty was silent a moment. “You don’t drink to excess and you don’t do drugs, so what the hell would you need an intervention for?”

That answered one question – Misty wasn’t involved. That made Maria’s fury dim somewhat. “Not being out.” Her tone was quieter, with the first rush of anger sated.

“Oh, ducks,” Misty sighed. “I’m sure Phil would be proud if you came out, but I don’t think he sent you there to pressure you into it. I thought you said he had a job for you there? Information ferreting?”

“Angie could do that just as well, without leaving DC.” Probably better, Maria thought bitterly. “I’m just here to see gay and lesbian relationships rubbed in my face.”

“If Baby Coulson and Mrs. Baby Coulson rub anything in your face, can I watch?”

It took a moment for the question – and its innuendo – to penetrate Maria’s anger, but when it did she started to laugh. “Goddess, bunny. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She could almost hear Misty grin. “Too bad. Mrs. Baby Coulson is hot.”

Privately, Maria could see where she was coming from – Iris had all the best traits from her Cheyenne maternal line and Irish-immigrant paternal line – but hearing Misty compliment her was distinctly uncomfortable. “She’s not my type,” Maria retorted. “She’s married.” The silence from Misty was profound enough for Maria to check that the call was still active – and then roll back what she’d said in her head. “Shit. I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry, bunny.” It had only been a few days ago that Misty had revealed her catastrophic affair with a married professor – and already, Maria had managed to say something hurtful.

“It’s okay,” Misty answered quietly – but her tone wasn’t convincing.

“Forbidden word,” Maria retorted. “And don’t say you’re fine, either.” 

The answering sigh made Maria’s heart hurt. “I’m not fine, but I will be. I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Ria.” Idly Maria wondered when ‘ducks’ had supplanted ‘Ria’ as her favorite nickname – she hadn’t really noticed a change in preference until Misty used the latter. “I shouldn’t have teased you about Phil’s sister and sister-in-law.”

“You tease me all the time, bunny, and it doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, but…” Misty drew in a breath. “I shouldn’t tease you about women. I know you’re not… comfortable.”

Why were these conversations so much easier over the phone? Was it that she didn’t have to make eye contact? “That’s not fair to you. I mean… my issues shouldn’t… stop you.”

“Are we still talking about teasing?”

It was Maria’s turn to sigh. “Not entirely.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “I’m working on it, bunny. I think that’s why this pisses me off – Phil pushing me here. I’m trying to… figure myself out. So that someday, you’ll make a comment about a woman being hot, and I won’t snap at you.”

“Someday, huh?” Maria was relieved to hear some humor creeping back into Misty’s voice – the dullness was fading. “I’m going to hold you to that, ducks – I’ve got a lot riding on someday.”

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep in mind that we are hearing Maria's interpretations of the situation in this chapter -- that doesn't reflect the actual intent of Phil or his family.
> 
> It's not okay to pressure someone into coming out. It IS okay to offer them support -- be that support as they come out, or supporting their decision to stay closeted. Phil hopes that time with his family well help Maria come to terms with her sexuality -- he is not attempting to push her into coming out.


	4. Chapter 4

Brunch at the Rainbow Inn was a thing to behold.

It seemed that the Coulson kitchen served as a community gathering place, every Saturday that the prodigal son wasn’t in town. Maria had asked about that – apparently, Phil’s presence caused so many people to flock to the Inn that Diane had put her foot down. Until the townspeople could get over the novelty of a secret agent man in their midst, the Inn was closed to the public whenever Phil was in residence.

The idea that Phil would draw such crowds boggled Maria's mind. She figured he must be good-looking – she wasn’t really any kind of judge, but he’d landed both Clint and Natasha, so there must be something about him that she simply didn’t see. 

And that phrase sounded familiar, even to her. Chasing it around in her brain occupied her through most of breakfast – until she realized it had come from the animated movie she’d watched with the twins last night. Beauty and the Beast. A silly little love story… that still made her heart ache. 

Iris sat down next to her at the long kitchen table. She’d spent most of the morning in the kitchen with Diane, but now surveyed Maria with a professional eye. “They’re a little overwhelming, aren’t they?”

Maria raised an eyebrow. ‘They’ could mean a lot of different things – the lunch crowd, the Coulsons, the twins – hell, even the clan. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I meant the crowd,” Iris said drily. “But your answer speaks volumes.” With a start, Maria remembered Phil saying Iris had a psychology degree, and Maria involuntarily leaned away from her. “Sorry. I don’t usually shrink family.”

“I’m not family.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

The glare she leveled at Iris could have peeled paint. “You’re shrinking again.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Several of them, actually, Maria admitted to herself – but she wasn’t about to fold. “Damn right. I’m on vacation to avoid Psych, thank you.”

Iris tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Granted. Although from what Phil told Diane, this isn’t a vacation.”

“No.” Maria tried to keep her scowl internal – really, she did. The slight flinch from Iris told her she’d failed. “It was this or a suspension.” Flicking her eyes across the room to see who was listening, she continued in a low voice, “And if I’d known I was going to be proselytized at, I’d have stayed in DC.”

Complete bafflement wasn’t the response she’d expected. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Iris blurted.

Maria sat back in her chair, meeting and holding Iris’s gaze. “I get that you and Sarah are out and proud, and that this damned Inn is all about gay pride, but I didn’t come here to be yanked out of the closet.”

Iris blinked. “You’re gay?”

Son of a bitch. “You didn’t know? Phil didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not!” Iris looked shocked at the mere notion. “Why the hell would he? And even if he had – Jesus, none of us would push you to come out. Phil’s been almost entirely in the closet his entire life – why would he…” Iris trailed off, looking distressed. “Do you really think we’d do that to you?”

Her outburst had drawn her wife’s attention, and Sarah stepped over to rest a hand on Iris’s shoulder. “Do what?”

“She thought we were trying to force her to come out!” Iris reached up for Sarah’s hand, clutching it. Sarah’s eyebrows shot up. She opened her mouth to speak, but was forestalled by the left-handed twin.

Maria had no idea how long the girl had been listening – hadn’t registered her presence, which made her frown internally. She didn’t think she’d been distracted enough to lose situational awareness. “Aunt Maria,” Lily sighed – and that stung, because the girl hadn’t called her ‘aunt’ before. “You know better. You know Uncle Phil better.” She wrapped one slender arm around Maria and put her head on Maria’s shoulder. “Please don’t be mean because you’re scared.”

That last was whispered, and Maria felt a surge of gratitude that the girl hadn’t said it loudly enough for her mothers to hear. 

Part of her wanted to protest that she wasn’t scared. Why should she be? If ever there were a safe place to admit her sexuality, it was in the kitchen of the Rainbow Inn, across the table from a married lesbian couple. With their involved and supportive parents nearby, and knowing they were the sister and sister-in-law of someone she trusted with her life.

But she was scared. Terrified. The last time she’d been cornered into openly admitting she preferred women, she’d been discharged from the Marine Corps, and lost everything she thought was important to her.

She couldn’t do that again. She wouldn’t survive losing everything again.

Somewhere, the reasonable voice in her head protested that she wouldn’t lose her clan – that the triad would never disown her for her preferences. That most, if not all, of the Scoobies already knew, and accepted it. That Misty had vowed to support her in her choices, whether that was to come out, or stay closeted. 

But fear was a logic killer, and it stole her voice as well. She didn’t know what to say to Iris, who was looking at her with something akin to betrayal – or devastation – in her eyes. She couldn’t answer the demand in Sarah’s expression, either.

Maria felt another arm slide around her waist, on the opposite side, and knew the second twin had joined her sister. “You don’t have to tell us,” Rose murmured. “Whatever it is you’re scared of, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us.”

“But you can, if you need to,” Lily added. “You’re not alone anymore, Aunt Maria.”

Whether it was their words or their freely offered comfort, Maria didn’t know – but the fierce hold she was keeping on herself shattered. The breath she’d taken turned into a sob, and she clutched at the arms around her waist, trying to tether herself in reality.

The last time she’d cried, the arms around her waist had belonged to Misty, and abruptly Maria missed her with a physical ache.

“Goddess, I’m so sorry, Iris,” Maria managed to choke out. “I didn’t – I do know better. Of you, and of Phil.” She sounded lost even to her own ears. “I’m sorry.”

Iris reached across the table, twitching her fingers until Maria slid one hand into hers. “I forgive you, Maria.”

Yes… but would she be able to forgive herself?

~ * ~

“Agent Summers?”

Misty was sitting alone in the cafeteria, halfway through her lunch, when Agent Verley approached her. “Yeah?” She looked up at him. “Damn, Verley. She beat the hell out of you.”

Verley sat down across from her. “Yeah, she did.” Summers’ casual rejoinder meant he could relax a little – she wasn’t one to stand on ceremony, despite technically outranking him. She was a squad leader, and he wasn’t – even though he had more years in than she did. But she was a favorite of Coulson’s, and that made all the difference. “That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

Misty tilted her head at him, pushing her tray towards him to offer him some of the fries still on it. “I’ll bite. What have I got to do with your tiff with Hill?”

He grimaced, then winced – both expressions caused pain in the healing bones of his cheekbone. “She didn’t tell you what I said? What… umm… triggered her?”

She wanted to growl at the way he’d phrased it – Maria wasn’t a landmine to be set off – but she was too curious. “She did not.”

“I. Um. Suggested that she and Agent Coulson were… hooking up. And that you. Um. Joined them?”

The embarrassed and apologetic tone to his voice was the only thing that saved him from having the other cheekbone shattered. “You’re damned lucky she didn’t kill you.” It came out low and menacing, a poisoned blade beneath the barest whisper of silk.

Verley had expected that answer from Coulson. To hear the same words – with the addition of an expletive – from Summers surprised him. “Yeah. I know.” He was watching her carefully, though he tried to be subtle about it. He didn’t know what Coulson saw in her that other handlers hadn’t. It had been easier to believe it was because she was a hot piece of ass, but if Coulson was banging boots with Barton, it was doubtful he’d picked her for her looks.

Misty breathed in, trying to find the center of calm she could usually summon. It wouldn’t come. Fine. She’d fake it. “So are you apologizing for accusing me of sleeping with two senior agents, or for getting caught doing it?”

“Apologizing for accusing. And – I don’t actually think that, Summers.” Verley ducked his head. “I might have. At one point.” Like this morning, before he’d talked to Coulson – but she didn’t need to know that. “I don’t any more. I shouldn’t have listened to gossip.” And for damned sure, he wouldn’t be repeating any. Coulson may not have ordered him to keep out of scuttlebutt, but it had been implied.

“Apology accepted,” she said smoothly. “But if I ever hear you repeat gossip about me again, I’ll break your other cheekbone.”

He nodded. He hadn’t really expected anything else.

Misty waited until he left before dumping what was left of her food in the trash and heading to Maria’s empty office. Hurt and fury were warring for star billing in her head, but she was trying to keep them both shoved out of the way – at least until she’d heard what Maria had to say.

She sank into Maria’s office chair and her eyes fell on the ridiculous bunny-eared rubber duck she’d bought for Maria at Christmas. She hadn’t realized Maria’d put it in her office – next to her monitor, where she’d see it all day. Misty touched the bunny ears lightly, and noticed the paint was worn, just a little, in that spot. Did that mean Maria did the same thing? Goddess, she hoped so. Wished.

She got out her phone and when Maria answered, it took her a moment to form a question. “Which part made you angry? Being accused of sleeping with sensei, or with me?”

“Neither,” Maria answered. Her voice was ragged – she’d cried for almost an hour, being comforted by a houseful of Coulsons. She still wasn’t sure she deserved it. And for all that she wanted to put her stoic mask back on, she was drained. “It was – it was the idea of you sleeping with Phil.”

Well, damn. Misty sat back in Maria’s chair and closed her eyes. “You sound terrible, ducks. You okay?”

Not really, Maria thought – but she didn’t want to burden Misty when she was obviously upset. “I will be. What brought on the question?”

“Verley came to apologize.”

“No shit?”

Misty forced a laugh. “No shit.” Her eyes opened, fell on the rubber duck. “I thought… when he told me, I thought you’d hit him because he thought I was sleeping with you. And Phil. But it was the you part my brain latched onto. And I just… is the idea of dating me really that bad, ducks?”

“No.” Maria cleared her throat. “No, it’s not. I promise, that isn’t what made me go postal. I mean, I’d have freaked out if he’d just flat out suggested that you and I were a thing because… we’re not… but…” Thinking back on her uncharacteristically open conversation with Iris and Sarah after her tears had ended, Maria opted for honesty. “I couldn’t handle your reputation being smeared, bunny.”

At the familiar nickname, Misty breathed out and sank into the chair further. It would be okay, if Maria kept calling her that. “I don’t need you to protect my reputation, ducks,” she said gently. “But… thanks.”

“For putting an agent in the medical wing over your honor?”

“For caring about my honor,” Misty corrected. “It’s been… a long time, since anyone did.” 

Maria wondered if it had been False Phil, the professor she’d dated in college. Probably, given that she didn’t think Misty had had a serious relationship since. “Maybe I did it to get a vacation,” Maria said lightly.

Misty laughed, as Maria had hoped. “You hate vacations.”

“This one isn’t turning out to be so bad.”

“You have a talk with Baby Coulson?”

“When you meet her, I dare you to call her that to her face,” Maria said with a chuckle. “Yes, with Sarah and Iris – and the twins, for part of it. I. Um. Had a bit of a meltdown, after lunch.”

“I knew you sounded rough,” Misty murmured. “Are you okay? For real?”

“Yeah.” Maria sighed. “They didn’t know, bunny. I thought Phil told them, but – they didn’t know.” She paused, thinking back to what Iris had said about her denial. “That I’m gay.”

Misty sucked in a breath. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Maria say it. Dance around the subject, sure. Say it? Not so much. She didn’t know how to respond, and was terrified that she’d say something to make Maria clam up again – because this was the most open they’d been with each other, in these phone calls since she’d left. “I’m proud of you,” she said finally, after swallowing hard. “For saying it.”

“I don’t know if I can say it to anybody else, yet,” Maria admitted, “but I can say it to you.”

“I’ll take it.” Misty blew out a breath. “Do you have any booze in your office?”

Maria raised an eyebrow, though Misty couldn’t see it. “No. Phil keeps some in his righthand desk drawer – bottom drawer, way in the back. Behind the personnel files.”

“It should bother me that you know that.” Misty debated, but didn’t want to invade Phil’s office for a drink. “Maybe I’ll just go out tonight. Have a drink, do some dancing.”

She had no right to object, Maria knew, but she wanted to. “Just be careful,” she contented herself with saying. “I’m not there to defend your honor, you know.”

“I will, ducks.”

~ * ~


	5. Chapter 5

Sunday, after church, the Rainbow Inn was invaded. Maria had known intellectually that Phil had a dozen nieces and nephews, not counting the two on Clint’s side. She’d seen a few pictures, even, of the whole swarm of them on an icy pond, or surrounded by shredding wrapping paper in the living room.

Nothing prepared her for the noise.

They were everywhere. If she hadn’t known for a fact that there were only twelve, Maria would have pegged the number at thirty. Maybe fifty. 

And the adults were as bad – or worse. All three sisters and spouses, Iris’s parents, and Phil’s parents. She was surrounded by couples.

Although, looking at the middle sister Megan and her husband, Maria had to wonder if there’d be one fewer couple in the future.

She had half a mind to escape to the Yellow Room for sanctuary, but Lily had given her a knowing look. Rose had crooked her eyebrow up in an expression so like Phil’s that Maria wanted to laugh – it was Phil’s ‘I dare you’ look, and it looked out of place on the twelve-year-old girl. But she’d stayed, because she was apparently putty in the hands of the various Coulsons.

“You look like you’re contemplating a tactical retreat.” It was an amused man’s voice, and Maria turned to catch sight of Darla’s husband, Thom – the well-muscled black man she’d been introduced to earlier, and immediately recognized as a fellow Marine.

“The thought occurred to me,” Maria answered drily. “Unfortunately, every time I ponder it seriously, one of the flower girls finds me.”

Thom laughed. “They’ve got a knack for that.” He gestured towards her with his coffee. “You get a cup of the brew I brought? Real Marine tar.”

“Oh, Goddess,” she breathed. “I didn’t, and I want.”

He grinned at her and gestured towards the kitchen. At her snort, his grin widened. “Hey, my wife expects me to have manners. Ladies first.”

“I’m no lady,” she retorted, but preceded him anyway.

Upon entering the kitchen, he produced a thermos from on top of the refrigerator and offered it to her with ceremonious solemnity. She took it, twisted the cap off, and grinned. “Real coffee.”

“Just like they brew at the FOB,” he agreed, and plucked a mug from the cabinet. “How long you been out?”

She took the mug, poured it full, and took the first bitter sip before she answered. “Seven years. Longer than I was in.”

“I’ve been out ten. I put in my twenty, though.” He looked at her over his own coffee mug. “Medical?”

“DADT.” It was the first time she’d volunteered that information to another Marine, but it was easier than she’d thought. 

He growled, and for a moment her heart stopped – until she realized what he was saying. “Fucking homophobes.” Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he lifted one shoulder. “I’d apologize for the language, but I know damned well you’ve heard worse.”

“Wasn’t the language.” She took another pull on the coffee, closing her eyes briefly. He was right – it did taste like it had been brewed on base, out in the desert. “Not used to anybody being offended on my behalf. I’m trying to get used to it.”

“You’d better, around this crew.” He circled his finger in the air, indicating the entirety of the Coulson family. “I remember the first time one of them heard me called a – well. A derogatory term,” he evaded. She understood – expletives were one thing. Slurs were another. “Darla and I hadn’t been married long, and we were down in Alabama for a family wedding – on Diane’s side, some cousin or other.” He waved a hand in the air. “Didn’t care then, don’t care now. Point is, I was standing with Darla waiting to get in to the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner was, and – well, it was Alabama.” He shrugged. “They weren’t kind. I can pretty much shrug it off – I mean, once you’ve had insults hurled at you in Arabic, Farsi, and Pashto while you’re trying to keep your men from bleeding, what’s a few racial slurs, right? But nobody told that to Diane.” A slow grin formed, and his eyes sparkled at the memory. “It’s a good thing I was already married to my Darla, and Diane to her Alex – because I’d have married her on the spot for the tirade she laid out on that skinhead.”

“If she’s got half the eloquence of Phil, it must have been damned good.” Maria chuckled. “I’ve heard Phil’s after-action debriefings. He can cut an agent to the bone in two sentences. Less, if there’s been injuries.”

Thom grinned. “Exactly. It was beautiful.” He poured more coffee into his mug. “But it pisses me off that any of them had to hear it, or respond to it. I reckon you’re pissed off, too. Not because they defend you – but because you think they shouldn’t have to.”

She swallowed coffee to give herself a moment to think. “You got a psych degree, too?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No. But I work with a lot of vets, and Darla works at a women’s clinic.” He glanced around the house. “And this isn’t just a SHIELD safehouse.”

That surprised her – not that the Coulsons would offer shelter to someone who needed it, but… the look he was giving her told spoke of a concerted, organized effort. “Battered wives?”

“Among others. Battered husbands. Couple of runaways who were running from hell.” His eyes met hers. “Few who needed shelter under the rainbow banner, not the stars and stripes.”

“And they always talk to you?”

He shrugged. “Usually. I don’t know why, but people find it easy to talk to me.” His eyes twinkled at her over the rim of his cup. “I don’t always bribe them with tar, though.”

She snickered, and it surprised her. “More tar for us,” she said solemnly.

~ * ~

Monday was blissfully, blessedly quiet.

The twins were at school – Iris was too, as she worked at their school. Sarah was off on a supply run to a nearby big box store. Alex had closed himself up in his office with a stack of receipts. She was alone in the kitchen with Diane.

It should have been intimidating – this was, after all, the very formidable mother of her chief. But Diane had what Clint persisted in calling ‘momness’ – that indefinable quality that made her feel like a friend. Someone safe. Trustworthy.

Of course, the amount of baked goods she turned out meant she probably could bribe her way into feeling like a friend to damned near anybody. 

Maria had offered to help with the baking, but Diane had waved her to a kitchen stool. “Don’t tell the girls, but I don’t actually need help in the kitchen. I just like keeping them busy,” Diane confided with a small smile.

“They’re good girls,” Maria agreed idly. She was distracted by the muffin in front of her – raspberry, today. She decided she agreed with Natasha – raspberries were clearly the superior berry.

“You seemed surprised that they like you.” Diane kept her hands busy, her face averted – she’d raised three teenage daughters. She knew how to encourage a conversation.

Maria shrugged one shoulder. “Kids don’t, normally. Like me, I mean.”

“Normal doesn’t really apply to the twins.” There was something dark in Diane’s tone.

Maria shot her an inquisitive look. “Is this where I pretend I’m not curious and politely don’t ask?”

Diane chuckled. “I’ve yet to meet a SHIELD agent who isn’t curious. I can’t tell you all of it – parts of it aren’t mine to tell. But the girls came to this family through a bad set of circumstances – you know they’re adopted, right?”

“The fact that they have two mothers kind of gave that away.”

“Hmph.” Diane shot her an irritated look. “There are other ways. But that’s not the point.” She waved her hand, causing flour to waft in the air. “They have issues of their own. They’re well adjusted – and thank goodness, they were too young to remember the worst of it. But they aren’t… normal.”

“Your son has said to me that normal is just a setting on the washing machine.”

“And where do you think he heard that?”

Maria chuckled. “I know he’s your son and you raised him, but it’s hard for me to think of him as a kid. I mean, until the last few years I could barely picture him outside of Agent Coulson. We’d grab a beer now and again, but he wasn’t…”

Diane quirked her lips. “Human?”

“I didn’t…” Maria trailed off. “Well, yeah. There was a rumor going around when I got hired at SHIELD that he’d been replaced by an android.”

“I’m sure he liked that one. Probably could give you a list of famous androids and robots, and rank the ones best suited to doing his job.” She patted the crust of a pie into place and dusted it with more flour. “There was a long stretch of time where I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to come out of it, that inhumanity.”

“After Agent Price?” Maria asked softly. Diane shot her a look. “He told me, last summer. The Scoobies know too. He let slip enough information that they put it together, and he didn’t stop them.”

“I imagine he had his reasons for telling you?”

Maria sighed. “You know, I thought Clint was joking when he said Phil got his interrogation skills from you. Yeah, he did. I had a little meltdown at Nat’s slumber party, and he wanted me to understand why he hadn’t started a revolution at SHIELD about the crappy treatment of gay and lesbian agents.”

Diane’s eyebrow lifted. “Your words or his?”

“Mine. Although what I actually said was that I didn’t expect him to be a gay martyr.” She snorted. “I was a little shaken.”

“I get the feeling you’ve been a little shaken for a while now, lovey.” Maria flinched. “What is it?”

“Can you not call me that?”

“Call you what? Lovey?” At Maria’s sharp nod, Diane frowned. “I’ll try. I’m afraid it’s habit. I certainly don’t intend it to upset you.”

Maria let her hand brush Diane’s arm briefly as she brushed by – the only casual touch she’d offered thus far, but the distressed look on Phil’s mom’s face made her want to offer comfort. “I know. And I appreciate that.” She didn’t want to tell Diane why it bothered her, and thankfully the woman didn’t press. Instead, she turned to another recipe in her battered cookbook, and set about teaching Maria how to make bread.

It didn’t occur to her until she was falling asleep Monday evening that she hadn’t heard from Misty today – or yesterday.

~ * ~


	6. Chapter 6

“Ducks?”

Misty’s voice was small and frightened, and it brought Maria to instant wakefulness. “Bunny, what’s wrong?” She hadn’t even been aware she’d answered her cell phone until she’d heard Misty.

“I need you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Maria swung out of bed, reaching for her clothes. “Where are you?”

“The bus station.”

The fear in her voice made Maria’s hands tremble. “Which one?” She slid jeans on, shoved her feet in her boots and laced them as quickly as she could.

“Um. The one in Manitowoc?” Misty’s voice was apologetic, but trembling.

Jesus, what had forced Misty on to a cross-country bus to her in the middle of the damned night? “Are you hurt?” Maria moved the phone away from her head just long enough to slip a t-shirt on. With the phone pinched between her ear and shoulder she pulled her hair back in a ponytail.

“I don’t know.” The last word came out perilously close to a sob, ratcheting Maria’s concern up even farther. “Maybe.”

“Are you alone? Are you safe?” Maria grabbed her credentials and pistol, trotting down the steps with no regard to the other occupants of the inn. She grabbed her jacket out of the hall closet and bolted to her borrowed SUV.

Misty’s voice caught. “I’m not alone. There are other people in the station, but I don’t think… I think I’m safe. I have my creds and sidearm.”

Maria punched in ‘bus station’ on the GPS and was relieved that there was only one nearby, and that the GPS seemed to know how to get there. “Nav system says I’m twenty minutes out, bunny, but I’m going to push it as fast as I can. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?”

“Yeah.” There was a deep breath that ended on another sob. “I don’t know what happened, ducks. I don’t know…”

“It’s going to be okay. I’m on my way, and everything’s going to be okay,” Maria soothed automatically. She wished she’d thought to ask Natasha if the SUV had lights and sirens hidden somewhere. If she got pulled over, she could flash her SHIELD badge and probably get away without a ticket, but who knew how long it would delay her?

She kept up a calming commentary of nothing as she approached the bus station. She pulled up to the passenger loading zone and caught sight of Misty, huddled on a bench with her cell phone pressed to her ear like a lifeline. Misty saw her approach and dropped her phone into her lap. She didn’t stand, just curled in on herself. “Hey, I’m here,” Maria said immediately, and sat down next to Misty. “Let’s get you out of here, okay?”

Misty nodded and fumbled her phone into a pocket. Her movements were uncoordinated, and her eyes were glazed. She reached for Maria’s hand like a child, and Maria led her to the SUV. “Did you bring anything with you?” Misty shook her head, still mute. “Okay. Up you go. Let’s get you to the Inn.”

The continued silence worried Maria more than the look in Misty’s eyes, but she couldn’t take the time to fully evaluate the blonde until they were back at the Inn. She wasn’t bleeding and there were no visible bruises, so the hospital didn’t seem like a necessary stop at this point.

Maria took the drive at a more reasonable pace on her return, and fifteen minutes after she’d picked up the shivering squad leader she was pulling the SUV back into the driveway of the Inn. A light was on in the kitchen – Maria wondered who she’d have to deal with.

She walked around the SUV to open Misty’s door, offering her hands to help the younger woman out. Misty was still trembling and her legs didn’t seem to want to support her. Maria waited until she’d caught her balance before leading her a few steps away, slamming the car door, and then urging her up the steps into the Inn.

Of all the residents that could have been awake, Maria was devoutly glad that it was Diane sitting at the kitchen table. Phil’s mother took one look at Misty and rose. “I have emergency kits for agents,” she said briskly. Maria was startled, until she remembered that this was a SHIELD safehouse as well. “Take her up, lovey,” Diane commanded, and Maria was too concerned for Misty to even notice the nickname. “I’ll put together a tray and bring it and some supplies up, put it outside your door. If you need me, you just knock on the bedroom door, alright?”

“Thanks, Diane.” She put her arm around Misty’s waist and guided her up the stairs to the Yellow Room. “I bet this isn’t how you expected to meet Phil’s mom, huh?” She wasn’t surprised not to get a response.

Misty resisted being led to the bed, so Maria settled her in an armchair by the window and knelt in front of her. “Can you tell me what happened?”

The blonde tried to focus on Maria. “I think… oh God.” Her face crumpled and her hands came up to hide her face. “The last thing I remember was being at a bar, and then I woke up somewhere not home, and…”

Maria felt a fiery flush, followed immediately by numbing cold. “Did you – were you – ”

“Maybe.” Misty choked the word out. “Probably. Oh God.” Her hands moved from her face to wrap around her torso. Tears sprung up unheeded. “I hurt, Maria.”

It took everything she had for Maria not to sweep Misty into her arms, squeeze her until the fear and pain went away – but if what she suspected was true, her touch might only make it worse. “Did you report it?”

Misty gave her a blank look. “I got on a bus and came to you.”

“Okay.” Maria rubbed her face. “How long ago did this happen?”

The blankness cracked, and Misty breathed in sharply. “I don’t know. What day is it?”

Oh, Christ. Maria put her palms on Misty’s knees, needing to offer comfort but terrified that she’d push too far. “It’s Monday, bunny. Well, by now it’s Tuesday morning.” Maria glanced at the clock. “Really early Tuesday. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I went out Saturday night to dance. I… was upset, still, and I just wanted to dance.” She shivered. “Is it cold in here?”

Maria rose, snagged a throw blanket from the foot of the bed, and wrapped it around Misty. Since she was already up, she opened the door to retrieve the tray and bag that Diane had deposited there. The emergency kit was welcome – clothes and toiletries in generic, bland styles. “Do you want a cup of tea?” She gestured with the thermos she’d found on the tray. Misty shook her head.

She knelt back down in front of Misty. “Okay, so you wanted to dance. Where did you go?”

“Um.” Misty tugged the blanket tighter around her, but snaked one hand free to reach for Maria’s. “There’s a gay bar near my apartment. It’s called – ”

“Mad Myrna’s,” Maria supplied, feeling another icy splash. She knew the bar. Almost two years ago, she’d stood over Phil Coulson’s hospital bed after he’d been dosed in the same damned bar. Her hand tightened on Misty’s. She didn’t think it was a coincidence, and her need to report it to Phil skyrocketed. “Were you drinking?” At Misty’s hurt gasp, Maria hastily added, “I don’t mean it was your fault, bunny. I want to know if someone slipped you something, or if it was skin contact, or airborne.”

“I had a margarita,” Misty whispered. “But I didn’t take my eyes off of it, ducks, I wouldn’t – ”

“I know. I know, you’re a smart girl,” Maria soothed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just need to know, that’s all. If it was in your drink, it might have been targeted. If it was airborne, you might not be the only vic—the only one affected.” She wrapped her other hand around Misty’s as well, smoothing her thumbs over the knuckles as she’d seen Clint do. “This isn’t your fault, bunny.”

Misty’s eyes seemed to focus on her a little more at the physical contact. “I know.” She shivered again.

Maria wanted to pull her close, but limited herself to Misty’s hand. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“No.” The shivering was getting worse. “I didn’t… I came straight to you.”

Later, Maria would wonder why she wasn’t thinking like an agent – why she wasn’t considering blood tests and forensic exams – but it would not occur to her until much later. “Will a shower help you get warm?” Misty’s eyes welled up, and Maria gave up trying to keep her distance. She rose from her kneeling position just enough to wrap her arms around Misty’s shoulders. “I’m going to take care of you, bunny.”

“I know.” Misty pressed her cheek into Maria’s shoulder. “I knew you would.” She was silent for a minute, just breathing – her arms going around Maria’s waist, clinging. “Yeah, a shower would be good.”

“You want to wear what’s in the emergency pack, or borrow something?”

“Borrow.”

“Okay. SHIELD sweats it is.” Misty released her reluctantly, transferring her grip to the blanket. “Are you steady enough on your feet to do it alone, or do you need help?”

Misty bit her lip. “I think… I think I’m okay, but…” she looked mortified. “Would you stay with me?”

“You want me on the inside or the outside of the door, bunny?”

“Inside?” She asked so softly Maria had to strain to hear her.

“You got it.” Maria handed her a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, as well as the emergency pack. At Misty’s confused look, she smiled gently. “Pretty sure you’d rather have clean socks and underwear, and it feels weird to offer you mine.”

Misty looked away. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to – ”

Maria turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t have to do anything, bunny, and I’m not hesitating to help you. Come on. Let’s get you warm.” She intentionally didn’t use the word ‘clean’ because she didn’t want Misty to think she was unclean, somehow. She would have excused herself from the bathroom when Misty started to undress, but the blonde was shaking enough that she was having trouble managing on her own. “It’s okay, Misty,” Maria murmured. “Let me help.”

“This isn’t exactly how I pictured you seeing me naked the first time,” Misty managed to say, with a half-smile. 

Maria returned it as she supported Misty into the shower stall. “I’ve seen you in the locker rooms, bunny. Nothing new to see here.” Except the bruises that she was trying not to see – fingertip bruises on her upper arms, and others on her back and hips and – Maria forced herself to catalog them clinically, even though her heart hurt to see them. Misty made no attempt to shield herself from view – she never did. Maria’d never met anyone with less concern for nudity. She’d once seen Misty conduct twenty minutes of a strategic briefing in just a bra and jeans – Chuck had turned red as a tomato before she’d noticed.

“I think… I think I showered before I got on the bus,” Misty mumbled as she poured shampoo into her hand. “My hair’s clean.”

“Okay.” Maria added that to her mental tally of events – trying to calculate how much time Misty had lost. Longer than most drugs, she knew – she’d either been dosed repeatedly, or it was something new, and the latter idea frightened her. “So’s the rest of you, actually.” Maria considered her objectively. There were no smudges, no bloodstains – or other fluid stains, her traitorous brain supplied. Misty routinely wore makeup, but her face was bare now – with no mascara stains. She – or someone else – had cleaned up.

Misty rinsed the last of the soap from her hair and just stood under the water, eyes closed. “I don’t remember, ducks.”

“I know.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know that too.” Maria’s voice was quiet, just loud enough to be heard over the shower. “You aren’t the only one.”

Misty turned off the water and reached for the towels, wrapping one around her body and the other around her hair. Her hands were shaking again. Maria hesitated before placing her hands over Misty’s, helping her twist the towel on her hair on top of her head. Clothes came next – plain cotton briefs from the SHIELD kit, a pair of worn SHIELD sweatpants, and a Marine Corps t-shirt worn thin by years of washing.

When Misty was dressed and her hair brushed, Maria started to step away only to be halted by Misty’s soft words. “Please don’t pull away from me,” Misty whispered, and Maria’s breath caught. “I can’t handle that right now.”

With careful, delicate pressure she pulled Misty towards her until she could wrap one arm around Misty’s waist and use the other to cradle Misty’s head into her shoulder. “I’m sorry, bunny.” Misty relaxed against her, pliant and trusting. “I just don’t want to crowd you.” And she hadn’t expected her touch to be welcome – wouldn’t have been surprised or offended if Misty had pushed her away entirely. Instead, Misty seemed to burrow deeper, the tremors in her body easing as Maria stroked her hair. “Do you think you can sleep?”

“You’re staying, right?”

Goddess, it broke her heart to hear her Misty sound so scared, and so small. “If that’s what you need.” Slowly she helped Misty into the bed and under the covers, before settling down on top of them, still in her clothes.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“Don’t want to crowd you,” Maria repeated, though she did run her fingers through Misty’s hair again. 

“Please?”

Maria didn’t say anything, but stood and reached for the ducky pajamas she’d been wearing when Misty called. She felt ridiculous sliding in next to Misty – ridiculous, and guilty. She shouldn’t be doing this. She should be considerate, respectful of Misty’s space – everything she’d learned about post-trauma treatment of agents told her to keep her distance, keep it professional.

But there was no damned way she could say no to her Misty, not when she looked at her like that.

“Whatever you need,” Maria promised, as Misty curled into her. “Get some rest, bunny,” Maria murmured, her hand coming up to stroke Misty’s hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mad Myrna's is a real place in Anchorage, Alaska -- but as far as I know, no SHIELD agents have ever been drugged there. It's a safe, fun place that not only flies the rainbow flag that Phil's parents do, but lights up the outside of the building with a pretty array of rainbow lights that brighten more than just the cold winter evenings.


	7. Chapter 7

It didn’t surprise Maria that sleep eluded her. It felt like she was trying to think eight thoughts at once, and none of them were restful. (Except perhaps the thought of Misty, sleeping peacefully in the curve of her arm – but she veered away from that.) 

Foremost in her mind was a dreadful ache that her Misty had been hurt. Any time she considered the raw truth of that, her heart began to gallop and she had to force herself to take deep breaths, not wanting to wake Misty with her own panic. It was worse, when she let herself draw conclusions – neither of them had said the word yet, but everything pointed to Misty have been raped. 

She needed to get her bunny to a doctor, and she wasn’t looking forward to that battle. She didn’t know any SHIELD agents that voluntarily underwent medical treatment, herself included. But this wasn’t something she could ignore – she wouldn’t risk Misty’s health. Couldn’t. She might not have been able to prevent the assault, but she’d damned well do what she could to help Misty heal from it.

And that brought a fresh tsunami of emotion – guilt. She hadn’t been there to protect Misty, she’d been sitting on her ass in Wisconsin. Her ass should have been on the bar stool next to Misty – maybe she couldn’t have stopped Misty from getting dosed, but she’d sure as hell have put up a fight if someone tried to take her somewhere. She wanted to find Verley and break his other cheekbone – if he hadn’t upset Misty, she might not have gone out. And more than that, if he hadn’t been such an asshole in the ring, she wouldn’t have had to pummel him, and she wouldn’t have been in fucking Wisconsin when Misty needed her.

Misty did need her – and that was what kept her from losing the last vestiges of control. Misty had enduring something horrific, and trusted Maria to see her weak and scared – trusted her to help. That was humbling, and warming. And absolutely terrifying. SHIELD training didn’t cover enough, she realized – she knew how to deal with the practicalities of reports and medical exams, but the entirety of the SHIELD manual’s advice towards victims of assault was ‘refer to Psych.’ Very unhelpful, that – she had no intention of referring Misty to anybody.

Except… she was going to have to call Phil, and she was not looking forward to that. She was going to try to talk Misty into making the call, but wouldn’t be at all surprised if her bunny asked her to tell him. He needed to know, both as her handler and her chief – and he deserved to know, as her friend. But it wouldn’t be easy. Phil didn’t take well to any of his people being hurt. He was probably going to be upset that she hadn’t gone to him as well, though he’d get over that – Maria was sure of it. He was too good a man to let it impact his relationship with Misty… or with Maria. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry with her, for being the one Misty ran to. 

Straight to his family home – and what the hell were they going to tell the Coulsons? Diane hadn’t asked any questions when they’d come in, but Maria wasn’t stupid enough to think that meant she wouldn’t ask any questions at all. Phil’s mother was a force of nature – and right up there with her were the flower girls. But it would be okay. They were Coulsons. They’d accepted her screwed-up self with only a few road bumps – surely they would welcome Misty? 

Goddess, she hoped so. Hoped she could be enough to help Misty, that the Coulsons would help her… that Misty would be okay. She’d never prayed with such fervor before, but as she fell into a light doze, it was all she could think of – please, Gaia, let me be what she needs.

She snapped back to full wakefulness the instant that Misty awoke, felt the sudden tension as Misty realized she was not alone.

~ * ~

“Ducks?”

“Yeah, it’s me, bunny,” Maria soothed. “You’re okay, we’re in bed in the Yellow Room at the Rainbow Inn.”

Misty nuzzled her head against Maria’s shoulder. “Yeah, I remember that part.”

“What else do you remember?” Maria asked hesitantly.

Misty sat up reluctantly. She hadn’t really wanted to put distance between herself and Maria, but she did want to make eye contact. “It’s pretty fuzzy from about midway through the bus ride back to… I remember waking up,” she admitted. “I was still fuzzy when you picked me up, but I feel clearer now.” She looked down at the quilt, tracing designs with her fingertip. “I’m sorry.”

Maria resisted the urge to cuddle her close again. “Sorry for what?”

“For coming. I should have… Goddess, I should have gone to Sensei or nascha or cuz, not dragged myself here to spoil your vacation.” Misty wouldn’t look up from the quilt – she didn’t want to see sympathy in Maria’s eyes.

“You sure as hell aren’t spoiling my vacation,” Maria said firmly. “And I’m glad you came to me, bunny. I’m not happy you got hurt, but I won’t lie to you – I’m wicked glad you’re here.”

“Wicked glad, huh?” Misty raised her eyes from the quilt, a smirk blooming. “You got that phrase from me.”

“Probably.” Maria reached for Misty’s hand, twining their fingers together. “Today’s gonna suck, bunny.”

“I know.” Misty sighed. “And the first part of that suckitude is going to have to be calling sensei, because I was on schedule Sunday and Monday, and he’s probably going out of his mind.”

Maria flinched. “Not only that, but… two days with no contact? You’ll be listed UA.” At Misty’s blank look, she continued, “Unexcused absence. Kind of like AWOL. Absent without leave.”

“Damn it.” Misty pulled her knees up to her chest, pressed her forehead against one. “I can’t lose my job, ducks. I just… can’t.”

“You won’t.” Maria tugged at the hand she still held until Misty uncurled herself and crept back over to lay against Maria’s side. “Phil will fix it. He might have to call in a few favors, but he’ll fix it.” How, Maria wasn’t sure – but her faith in Phil was pretty much only overridden by her faith in Gaia. “Can you call him? Or do you want me to?”

“Can we do it together?” Misty asked, tone timid again.

Maria ran a comforting hand down her blonde hair. “Of course. Whatever you need, bunny.” Her hand continued to stroke. “That’s item number one on the list, but you’re not going to like number two any better. I need you to let me take you to a clinic.”

“Maria – ”

“I can’t compromise on this one, bunny.” Her arm tightened around the squad leader until she had to force herself to relax. “And before you ask, it’s not Agent Hill or even laoch scail needing that. I need that – I need to know my bunny is okay.”

Misty was glad that Maria couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see the tears brimming. She didn’t really understand why, in her altered state, she’d run halfway across the country to get to Maria – why she’d needed this person, and no other. (She had suspicions, but she wasn’t ready to face them.) But hearing Maria call her ‘my bunny’ warmed her, thawed some of the fear that not remembering had caused. She’d been half afraid – maybe more than half – that Maria wouldn’t want anything to do with her. “Yeah, okay.” She hoped she didn’t sound as emotional as she felt – Maria was as allergic to emotions as she herself was to familial terms.

“We can ask Diane to suggest a place – which brings me to nasty item number three… you’re going to have to meet the Coulsons.”

“I don’t really think that’s a nasty item, ducks. I’ve wanted to meet them.”

Maria paused in her hair-stroking. “What do you want to tell them? Diane doesn’t know anything other than I burst out of here in the middle of the night to go pick you up.”

“Why do we have to tell them anything?”

“This is Phil’s family, bunny,” Maria reminded her gently. “He learned that interrogation-stare from Diane… and the twins are freaky observant. I have no doubt they’ll know something is up, particularly when I ask for a recommendation to a medical clinic. Probably the one that Darla works at – oldest sister.” She smoothed Misty’s hair again, wishing she could offer more comfort. “I’m not saying you have to tell them anything, but… if you think keeping things from Phil is tough, wait until you meet Diane.”

“Damn it.” Misty buried her head in Maria’s shoulder. “I don’t want the entire world to know I was raped.” Maria’s arm tightened around her. “Like you hadn’t figured it out?”

“Sorry.” Maria forced herself to relax. “Guessing and knowing are two different things.”

Misty’s voice was very quiet when she asked, “Does it change anything?”

“No.” Maria gave into impulse and kissed the top of Misty’s head. “No, it doesn’t, bunny.”

A sigh of relief was Misty’s only answer, and they were quiet for some time before she groaned. “Let’s call sensei and get it over with.”

Maria reached for the nightstand and handed Misty her phone. “I’m right here with you, bunny. You’re not alone.”

~ * ~


	8. Chapter 8

Misty did her best to disguise the trembling in her hand as she took the phone from Maria and brought up the call to Phil. She didn’t really think she’d fooled the senior agent, but Maria didn’t mention it.

“This is Coulson. Maria, you’re supposed to be on vacation.”

“Sensei, it’s Misty. And Maria.”

“Misty?!” Phil’s cool professionalism disappeared, replaced by concern. “Grasshopper, where have you been? Are you okay?”

Misty looked at Maria helplessly. “She’s at the Inn with me, Phil. She got here last night… or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it.” Maria looked at Misty, trying to gauge what she should tell their chief. “She’s not okay, exactly. She will be.”

“What does ‘not okay exactly’ entail?”

“I was… drugged. Saturday night. At Mad Myrna’s,” Misty said after a moment. “I came to sometime Monday evening, got on a bus and came to Maria. I wasn’t really clear-headed, sensei – I just…” she trailed off, not sure how to explain why she’d needed her ducks, and not her chief.

Phil sucked in a breath at the name of the bar. He hadn’t been back, since the night he’d been dosed with an experimental truth serum there – a dosing that had unexpectedly led to his relationship changing with Clint and Natasha. “Just drugged?” he asked quietly.

“No.”

“Have you been to a doctor yet, Misty?” His voice was very gentle, and Misty wanted to cry again.

“It’s on our list for today,” Maria promised. “Along with calling you, and introducing the grasshopper to your family.”

Misty swiped at her eyes. “How much trouble am I in, sensei? For being UA?”

“You won’t be in any, when I’m done,” Phil promised. The steel of Agent Coulson’s voice reassured her, even as the warmth of taoiseach Phil’s voice relaxed her. “Don’t worry about SHIELD. What else can I do to help?”

“Do you want him to call his mom, bunny?” Maria asked softly. She honestly didn’t care if Phil heard the question or not.

“No. We’ll talk to her,” Misty decided with another sigh. “It’s a cop out to have sensei do it.”

“I don’t mind,” Phil interjected.

Misty shook her head. “We have to talk to her anyway, to get the name of the clinic where your sister works. It’s okay, sensei. We’ll manage.”

If Phil noticed her repeated use of plural pronouns, he had the grace not to mention it. “If you change your mind, let me know. And keep me updated, will you? After you see the doctor?” It didn’t come out as an order, but rather plaintively. “I’ve been worried, grasshopper.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t need to apologize – it’s not your fault,” he corrected quickly.

“One of us will keep you in the loop,” Maria promised. Probably herself, she knew – Misty was already wilting at the effort of talking to Phil, and she didn’t really think it was going to get better as the day wore on. 

“If I can do anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“You got it, chief.” Maria ended the call and placed the phone back on the nightstand. As soon as her hands were free, she gestured for Misty to curl back up against her. “We’ll go down in a few minutes, bunny, but you look like you need a break.”

Misty pressed her face into Maria’s shoulder again. “Yeah.” She was silent for several minutes. “I should have called him. Before now, I mean.”

“You were under the influence,” Maria reminded her gently.

“Doesn’t excuse it.”

Maria stroked her hair. “It does. When Phil was dosed – ”

She was startled when Misty sat up and stared at her. “What? When?”

“Before the squad was settled – like, a year and a half ago? Almost two?” Maria sighed. “That’s why I got weirded out when you named the bar – it’s the same one.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Maria relaxed when Misty laid back down, curling into her. “I think it was a different drug – he didn’t lose consciousness, that we know of… just couldn’t stop talking. And couldn’t lie, either – it was weird. Nat and Clint were in Iowa when it happened, and they got a mayday from the mothership and were on their way before it even occurred to me to contact them. I think that’s when they became a triad, actually… although I’ve never asked.”

Misty was silent, tracing one of the ducks on Maria’s pajamas with her finger. “It’s not a coincidence, is it?” she asked finally.

“Probably not.” Maria couldn’t really fathom that it would be – two SHIELD agents dosed at the same bar, even if it was almost two years apart…

“Alright.” Misty sat up and ran her hands through her hair. “We’d better go face the music, and then get to the clinic. Sensei will need blood samples – if whatever I was dosed with isn’t out of my system by now, anyway.”

~ * ~

Maria led Misty into the kitchen, both of them dressed in jeans and t-shirts pulled from Maria’s bag. Maria had to stomp on her protective instincts – she wanted to put Misty at the farthest end of the table with herself between the squad leader and the Coulsons, but knew that wouldn’t serve anyone.

There were only two Coulsons in the kitchen this morning – Maria glanced at the clock, and realized the twins and Iris would already be at school. She wasn’t sure where Alex was – probably in his office. The room fell silent when they entered, and Misty jerked back as two sets of eyes landed on her. If it hadn’t been for Maria’s hand in the small of her back, she’d have turned tail and run back up to their room. “Easy, bunny,” Maria murmured to her. “They don’t bite.” She turned her attention to the table. “This is Agent Misty Summers – Phil calls her grasshopper. Misty, this is Diane – sensei’s mom – and Sarah. You know her as Baby Coulson,” she said, smiling over her shoulder. Misty managed a half-hearted wave.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Misty.” Diane rose and offered her hands in a move very similar to the ritual greeting Catriona used. When Misty made no move to accept her hands, Diane smoothed them down her apron instead. “Can I get you anything?”

Misty wasn’t sure she could handle food right now. “Tea?”

“Do you have any of Catriona’s clan blend?” Maria asked as she held a chair out for Misty.

“Of course.” Diane stepped into the kitchen to turn on the electric kettle. “Is your presence here classified?”

Misty blinked. “No…?”

“Have you called for extraction?” Sarah asked, topping off her coffee.

Misty turned to Maria, puzzled. “Ducks?”

Maria reached for her hand and smoothed her thumb over Misty’s knuckles. “This is a SHIELD safehouse, remember?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Diane asked, setting the cup of tea in front of Misty.

“No. I’m here because Maria’s here,” Misty said, eyeing the tea suspiciously. She wanted to trust Diane – she was Phil’s mom – but she was wary nonetheless. The last drink she’d accepted hadn’t ended well.

Maria picked up Misty’s teacup and sipped from it before returning it to Misty. Diane’s eyes sharpened on her, but she didn’t speak.

“This isn’t mission related, is it?” Sarah asked softly. Misty shook her head.

“Can you tell us?” Diane’s query surprised Misty – not ‘will you’, but ‘can you’. It was a distinction she didn’t think she’d have noticed a week ago, but that she appreciated now.

She cleared her throat and, at Maria’s raised eyebrow, took a sip of tea. The raspberry flavor soothed her soul and her throat. “Went to a bar Saturday night. Woke up somewhere else Monday night.” Misty looked down into the tea. “I don’t remember what happened in between, but when I came to, I headed for Maria.”

Diane swallowed, hard. She could read between the lines – aside from having raised three daughters and taught them about the risks, she’d been working with women from Darla’s clinic for a number of years. It didn’t prepare her for having someone her son considered family sitting at the kitchen table, all but admitting she’d been drugged and raped.

Sarah kept her eyes on her mother, but rose to fetch a basket of muffins and the butter dish. She passed both items to Diane, who immediately selected a raspberry muffin, split it with the butter knife from the dish, and slathered it with butter. She passed half to Misty and half to Maria before splitting another between herself and Sarah. “You’ll be needing the information for Darla’s clinic, then?” Diane offered into the silence, trying to keep her voice level. From Sarah’s raised eyebrow, she hadn’t been entirely successful.

“Yes please,” Maria agreed, picking at her muffin. Her eyes were on Misty, who was raising the tea to her mouth again, her hand trembling slightly. 

Sarah looked between the two agents and nodded slowly. Misty’s name hadn’t come up, when she and Iris had spoken with Maria on Saturday – but seeing them together, she was surprised it hadn’t. “What else can we do to help?”

Maria shot her a grateful look. “You can tell me the best place to pick up some supplies – Misty made it here without any luggage.”

Sarah stood and grabbed a post-it note from the kitchen drawer, jotting an address on it. “Here. It’s right down the road from Dar’s clinic, and it should have whatever you need.” She paused, and added the address for Darla’s clinic. “You want me to call ahead? Let Dar know you’re coming?”

“If you don’t mind.” Maria took the proffered note, glanced at it, and shoved it in her jeans pocket. “I’ve met her, bunny – you’ll like her. She’s got Phil’s sense of humor.”

It took every ounce of self-control that Sarah had not to ask about the nicknames, but a sharp glare from her mother halted the question on her lips. “She’s also a damned fine nurse,” Sarah said instead. “But don’t tell her I said so.” Sarah winked before walking out of the kitchen, intent on calling her sister.

She nearly ran over her father as he was entering, his attention on the carafe of coffee on the counter. Diane’s posture stiffened, and she looked between her husband and their guests. Sarah paused, just outside the door – not wanting to eavesdrop, exactly, but wanting to be nearby if Misty needed help.

Alex may not have been the most tactful man on the planet, but he was not unobservant. Two of the three women in his kitchen – and his daughter, just outside it – were watching him and darting glances at the remaining woman. 

It did not take a tactical genius to figure out they were afraid the third woman at the table would react badly to his presence, which told him pretty clearly what had brought her to their Inn in the middle of the night. “Do you need me to leave?” he asked the unfamiliar blonde at the table.

Her eyes jumped from her muffin to meet his, shocked. “No. Of course not. Why…” The sympathy in his eyes was her undoing, and tears sprang up again.

Diane rose from the table and moved to Alex, murmuring to him. “That’s Phil’s student, the one he calls grasshopper. Her name is Misty, and she’s been…”

“I can guess that part, my dear,” Alex replied, touching her hand. “I’ll go.”

“You don’t need to,” Misty said from the table. Her voice was firmer, more like herself. “I don’t remember what happened. I know it, because – well.” She shook her head, not willing to describe her physical condition to near strangers. “I know it. But I don’t remember it. You don’t need to go.”

“If you’re certain…” Alex met her eyes, looking for any doubt before he lifted his refilled mug and moved to sit next to his wife at the table. “I’m Alex, Phil’s father. My wife tells me you’re his grasshopper. I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it’s nice to meet you all the same.” He didn’t offer his hand, but did incline his head politely – for all that she said she was fine, he didn’t want to push her.

Maria didn’t relax until Misty smiled at Alex, and even then she found herself needing to stay between her bunny and Phil’s father. “Nice to meet you, too – circumstances suck, but at least there’s a sliver of a silver lining,” Misty said drily. Maria squeezed her hand.

Alex chuckled. “You’re tough. Not that I expected any less from my son’s favorite Scooby – don’t glare at me like that Diane. You know it as well as I do.” He raised one eyebrow and whispered theatrically across the table to Misty. “He just doesn’t want the other kids to know you’re his favorite.”

“They know,” Misty told him solemnly, but there was laughter in her eyes – and gratitude, for his light-hearted approach. She lifted the muffin half and took a small bite.

Sarah, out in the hall, breathed a sigh of relief that Misty was okay, and continued out to the living room to call her sister.

~ * ~


	9. Chapter 9

Phil hung up his phone, but left it on the table next to his coffee. He couldn’t seem to stop staring at it, as though it would provide him with the answers to the questions roiling in his mind. Why hadn’t Misty called him? Why hadn’t he called her, when he first realized she hadn’t shown for her shift on Sunday? He buried his face in his hands, tugging on his hair in a move he’d picked up from Clint.

He’d been too damned busy, he realized – too busy with SHIELD work to notice. Goddess, how long would it have taken before he’d started to look for her? She could have been – 

No. Resolutely he forced his mind away from the idea of losing any of his clan. Misty wasn’t fine, but she was alive. 

“Moonbeam?” Clint stood in the doorway of the dining room with his own cup of coffee, looking at his husband with concern. “Who was on the phone?”

Phil lowered his hands but his expression didn’t lighten any. “Misty. And Maria.”

Clint frowned. {Nat, I need backup.} He moved to sit next to Phil. “Why is Misty in Wisconsin?”

Natasha appeared in the doorway, took in her husbands, and made an executive decision. “This conversation is for the couch,” she informed them, extending a hand to each of them. “You both look too serious.”

“It is serious,” Phil agreed, and followed her without complaint. When she’d gotten them seated to her satisfaction – Phil in the middle, her on his left and Clint on his other side, he continued. “Misty was drugged at Mad Myrna’s Saturday night.”

Clint was glad that Natasha had gestured for him to leave his coffee behind, because he’d have spilled it at Phil’s words. “What? Is she okay? What happened?”

Phil tried to cover his face, but with one spouse grabbing each hand, he couldn’t. Instead, he shook his head and tilted it back against the headrest. “She’s not okay. She lost almost forty-eight hours, and woke up somewhere unfamiliar.” He paused. “She’s going to go to Darla’s clinic for an exam. She didn’t say it in as many words, but… she was sexually assaulted.”

Natasha sucked in a breath, and her expression changed from ‘concerned about husband’ to ‘murderous rage’ seamlessly. “Tell me everything.”

“I did. That’s pretty much all I know.” Phil turned his head and cracked open his eyes. “There’s nobody for you to kill, love.”

“Not yet,” she growled.

Phil squeezed her hand. “Much as I’d like to go on a rampage until we find the miscreant—”

“Seriously, that’s what we’re going to call the fuckhead?”

“—our focus needs to be on Misty.” Phil pinched Clint’s hands in reprimand for his interruption. “She’s safe with Maria now, at my parents.”

Clint’s eyebrows leapt. “What the hell is she doing in Wisconsin? Why didn’t she come to us?”

Phil tilted his head back against the couch again. “I presume she’s in Wisconsin because that’s where Maria is. As for the latter question, I don’t know.”

{Doesn’t know, and doesn’t like,} Clint remarked silently to Natasha as he wormed his way in closer to their husband. “What can we do?”

“I don’t know that either.” Phil released Clint’s hand in favor of wrapping that arm around his husband’s waist. “I’ve got to talk to Fury, get the grasshopper’s UA cleared – somehow. After that… start investigating, I suppose.”

Natasha didn’t like the heavy, almost despairing tone of Phil’s voice. “Are you alright, loverling?”

It was apparently the wrong question. “No. No, I’m not.” He pulled away from them to stand and pace. “I’m supposed to be able to protect them!” Phil burst out finally, after several laps around the coffee table. “It’s bad enough when one of you is injured in the field – that’s your damned job. This is… how am I supposed to control for this?”

“Nobody expects you to—” Clint began.

“I expect me to! They are mine to protect! All of you!”

{I take it you’ve never seen this particular rant?} Natasha asked Clint.

{No.} Clint eyed their husband, not sure how to proceed. {You mean this isn’t new?}

{Nope. Although I’ve only ever seen it when you’re unconscious in the medical wing.}

“Stop it! Both of you! I don’t need you conspiring how to calm me down!”

Clint rose and approached Phil, hands outstretched placatingly. “That’s not what we were doing, Moonbeam. I’ve never seen you like this, and Nat has – she was trying to help me understand.”

{It’s best to let the mad run its course, dearling,} Natasha advised. She timed her comment for one of Phil’s turns at the corner of the table, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I’m just trying to help,” Clint murmured to their husband, but flashed a look at Natasha that indicated the comment was for her as well. “Tell me what you need, Phil.”

At the use of his given name, Phil whirled to face Clint, startled. “I need her to be safe.” His words were matter-of-fact, but his eyes were desperate. “I need them all to be safe.”

“Laoch beag is safe with laoch scail, treorai,” Clint reminded him. His voice was calm, almost eerily so. “Do you need to speak with each of the clan, or will you allow us to do so?”

Phil blew out a breath and his shoulders relaxed. “I’d welcome the help, pretty bird. You’re right – I need to know they’re each okay. How did you…?”

Clint smiled, reaching for Phil. This time, Phil didn’t resist and allowed himself to be towed back to the couch. “That’s what Nat needed at Christmas, too. I think your handler instincts and chief instincts collided and went nuclear, Moonbeam.”

“You may be right,” Natasha agreed, shifting until she was nearly in Phil’s lap. “I’m sorry, loverling, I thought it was the same feeling you used to get when Clint was injured.”

“Close,” Phil murmured, and kissed her gently. “Not the same. But close.”

“Text message check-ins okay? The Scoobies will know something is up, if we start calling them all… and it’s not up to us to break this news to them,” Clint pointed out.

Phil reached for his cell phone – having to shift Natasha around somewhat to reach it in his pocket. “Text is fine. Next time I talk to Misty – or Maria – I’ll figure out what they want the Scoobies told. For now…” he grimaced. “Might as well give them a partial truth – I had a minor meltdown, and needed their statuses.”

Clint caught Phil’s chin in his hand and turned his head for a sweet, solid kiss. “You didn’t have a meltdown, Moonbeam. You just need a Chief brief.”

~ * ~

Darla Shepherd was waiting at the side door of the Haven Medical Clinic when Maria pulled the SUV into the parking lot. “Family doesn’t use the front door,” she informed them with a smile. “Come on, I’ve got a room ready for you with Dr. Blake.”

Misty followed her into the building, conscious of Maria’s hand in the small of her back again. “You have a pretty liberal definition of family.”

“Lip says you’re family, so you are,” Darla said over her shoulder, grinning at their recognition of the nickname. “I’m Darla, by the way.” She gestured them into a pink pastel exam room. “I can’t be your nurse – Dr. Blake frowns on us treating family, and you really do feel like it… cousin, maybe – but I hand-picked the nurse and doc for you, okay? I know this sucks.” She turned to Misty finally, giving her the full Coulson stare, and Misty was surprised that rather than feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny, it made her relax.

Maria bristled, thinking that Darla was being too off-handed – too casual. Her bunny had been traumatized. She should be treated carefully, gently –

But Misty was reaching for Darla’s hand, her eyes grateful. “It does suck, but I appreciate you not treating me like I’m made of porcelain.”

“Well, you aren’t,” Darla said tartly, even as she squeezed Misty’s hand. “Porcelain doesn’t have any flex or give. You’re not even steel – you’re more…” she searched for an appropriate substance, “willow tree. Strong, flexible, useful. And,” she said, squeezing Misty’s hand one more time before releasing it, “tough as nails. So yeah, this sucks – but you’re not going to break.” She smiled.

Misty looked over her shoulder at Maria, who was looking a little surprised at Darla’s statement. “You this cavalier with all your patients?” Maria asked after a moment.

“Nope.” Darla straightened her scrub top and adjusted her stethoscope back to a comfortable position. “Just the ones that can handle it. Which she can.” Darla raised an eyebrow at Maria, as if daring her to disagree.

“Now I see what you mean,” Misty murmured to Maria. “That was one of sensei’s eloquent eyebrows, wasn’t it?”

“Every inch of it,” Darla agreed cheerfully. “We get it from Mom. Dad never could pull it off.” She patted Misty’s knee. “I’ll leave you to Dr. Blake and her nurse Jo, okay? You want your friend to stay?”

Misty seized Maria’s hand. “Yes.”

Darla raised her hands. “Hey, I’m not suggesting she leave. Just got to check. If you need anything, I’ll be just around the corner. Try to relax, Misty. We’re here to help.”

With that, Phil’s sister exited the exam room, leaving Misty and Maria alone.

“So. That’s what sensei would be like without a badge,” Misty mused, as wriggled out of her clothes to put on the ridiculous paper gown laid out for her.

Maria folded the clothes Misty discarded, trying not to stare at her bruises. “You really okay with her being that… flip?”

Misty paused in the act of tugging the paper into place. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” Maria looked down at the tile. “I’m just…”

“Terrified you’re going to say the wrong thing, and I’ll hate you forever?” Misty asked with a small smile. She finished maneuvering the paper and reached for Maria’s hand. “I’m bruised, and sore, and really pissed off – but I’m okay, ducks. You’re not going to send me off the deep end. It might be different if I actually remembered what happened—”

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” Maria asked urgently, squeezing Misty’s hand. “I mean, if you really were uncomfortable, you’d say something… right?”

“Have I ever been accused of being shy and retiring?” Misty asked drily. “Yes, ducks. If I was feeling uncomfortable or threatened, even by you – I’d tell you.” 

“Especially by me.”

It was Misty’s turn to squeeze Maria’s hand, using her thumb to tap a rhythm on the back of her hand. “Yes ma’am.”

~ * ~


	10. Chapter 10

The medical exam was every bit as invasive as Misty had expected, and it was accompanied by enough questions and paperwork to make her think longingly of an after-mission debriefing and report.

She was poked, prodded and photographed before she was allowed to change back into her borrowed jeans and t-shirt. Misty was fairly certain that Maria was more bothered by the whole process than herself – but then, her ducks was in ultra-uber-protective mode.

They did run into a snag when Dr. Blake requested the name and contact information of Misty’s primary care physician. No way in hell was Misty going to give over the name of the doctor she saw at SHIELD. “Maria, do you have one of Doc Ramanujan’s cards on you?” she asked – fully aware that Raj didn’t have a business card… or a practice… or a license.

The senior agent’s eyes narrowed on Misty. She knew full well that Raj hadn’t finished his medical training, and wasn’t board certified in anything. Still, to get Dr. Blake off her bunny’s back… “What about Dr. O’Clare?”

Oh, now that was an idea Misty liked. Catriona did have licenses to practice – in various states and countries. “Even better.” She turned back to Dr. Blake and dictated Catriona’s contact information – using one of the triad’s safehouses as her ‘office’ address – and thanked the Goddess for Maria’s quick thinking. If these reports had to go anywhere, she’d rather it be to the druid.

That problem solved, they were able to complete the exam and interview – dismissing any questions that Misty did not want to answer with “I’m sorry, that’s classified.”

Working for a clandestine federal agency had some fringe benefits, after all.

Once she’d checked out of the medical clinic, Misty stepped back out the side door and leaned against the building, closing her eyes. Misty said nothing, just slid an arm around her waist. Darla exited a few moments later, glancing around until she spotted them.

“You okay?” she asked Misty.

The blonde didn’t bother to open her eyes. “Forbidden word.”

At Darla’s surprise, Maria chuckled. “Phil apparently got it from Iris – fine, stupid, and okay are all restricted words.”

“Ah.” Darla leaned back against the wall on Misty’s other side, her eyes on the younger woman. “I’m sure Dr. Blake mentioned it, but there’s a counselor we refer people to – ”

“No.”

“Come on, bunny, she’s just trying to help.” Maria squeezed Misty’s waist gently.

Misty cracked one eye and glared at Maria. “Ducks, you’re on a mandatory two week ‘vacation’ because you wouldn’t tell psych what Verley said to piss you off. Don’t expect me to volunteer to speak to a shrink.”

Darla let out a low whistle. “Damn, it’s no wonder Phil considers you family, you’re peas in a pod. Never could get him to see a therapist, even after Ken…” Her eyes darted over to see their reaction.

“Mmmhmm. And if being forced to fatally shoot his lover wouldn’t get our chief onto the doctor’s couch, what makes you think being raped would get me there?” Misty asked with false sweetness. Darla flinched. “I appreciate the offer, Darla, but the only people I intend to discuss this matter with are my family.” Mostly, she was thinking of Maria – but the triad and Scoobies were in her thoughts also. 

“I hope you’re including me in that group.” Darla didn’t reach for her – Misty appeared to be comfortable with Maria’s touch, but she didn’t want to push her boundaries. “Me, Thom – Megan, Sarah, Iris. Mom and Dad. The twins.”

Misty rolled her head to face Darla. “Right. I’m going to spill my heart out to twelve-year-old ears.”

“They’re twelve going on forty,” Darla pointed out. “And your – uh – Maria has talked to them.” She realized at the last moment she had no idea what they two women were to each other. She doubted it was just friends, but they didn’t have the same vibe as Sarah and Iris. Darla decided not to try and categorize it.

“She’s right, bunny,” Maria murmured. “I don’t know what it is. Maybe some of the Coulson charm.”

“Or mama mojo?” Misty suggested quietly. Maria looked startled. “Something Angie said… or didn’t say… at Christmas makes me wonder.”

Darla looked between them with a raised eyebrow. “Not gonna explain that, are you?”

“Nope.” Misty pushed away from the wall. “Come on, ducks. You promised me shopping, and then I want a hot bath and something with chocolate in it.”

Maria followed Misty to the SUV, waving apologetically to Darla. She didn’t call Misty on her less-than-polite behavior… she still wasn’t sure how much of this was bluster and how much was genuine. “The shop Sarah recommended is just a few minutes away,” Maria promised, unlocking Misty’s door.

Misty slid into the passenger seat, hiding a wince. She might not remember those forty-eight hours, but she had some impressive aches and pains that filled in some of the blanks for her. At least the doctor had cleared her of any serious damage – and if she never had to consider ‘tearing’ in that particular region again, it would be too soon. So, no serious injuries… but significant enough that Maria’s solicitude was welcome, rather than overbearing.

Maria crossed to the driver’s side and started the SUV, looking at the address on the post-it note Sarah had scrawled this morning. At least she knew how to find an address. She couldn’t fix her bunny – couldn’t stop the pain or even beat to a pulp the person that had inflicted it – but she could do this.

They pulled into the store’s parking lot, and Maria had to chuckle. “Figures Sarah would send us here.” She looked up at the sign – Pride & Decadence. There was a rainbow flag taped above the door. “You don’t mind, do you bunny?”

Misty rolled her eyes. “Ducks, I self-identify as the ‘b’ in LGBT, remember? It’s fine.” She exited the car and waited for Maria to come around and, with Maria’s hand comfortingly in the small of her back again, they entered the shop. 

“Can I help you?” It was a cheery, plump woman with bright blue hair and a pair of cat’s-eye glasses.

“I arrived in Manitowoc with no luggage,” Misty said to her, smiling. “We’re staying at the Rainbow Inn, and Sarah recommended your shop.”

“Ah!” The shopkeeper bustled out from behind the counter. “It’s always a pleasure to help one of the Coulson guests! No luggage at all, dearie? Well.” She shook her head. “You can just never trust those airlines, can you?”

Misty flashed an amused look over her shoulder at Maria. “No, I’m afraid not.”

In less than half an hour, they’d accumulated a bag, undergarments, jeans, and several shirts. The proprietress – she’d introduced herself as Madame Lark, much to Maria’s amusement – tutted at them before turning to a small corner that held nightwear. “And what are you looking for in sleepwear, dearie? I’ve got some lovely Valentine’s Day lingerie in – ”

“No lingerie,” Misty said firmly. “And preferably nothing Valentine’s related.” Then, with an embarrassed laugh. “Um. Actually. Do have anything with duckies on it?” 

“Or bunnies?” Maria added hopefully.

Madame Lark looked between the two of them and giggled. “Oh, dearies. Of course I do! You just stay right here, and I’ll be back.” She bustled – and really, Maria had rarely seen anyone whose movements better personified the word – into the back room.

“Duckies?” Maria asked Misty, sotto voce. 

Misty reached out her hand and slid her fingers into Maria’s, almost shyly. “Ducks make me feel safe.”

Marie was saved having to answer that – because damn, she had no idea what to say – when Madame Lark returned. She had a set of flannel pajamas in one hand, and a pair of polar-fleece lounge pants with coordinating t-shirt in the other. “Now, then. You just tell me if either of these will suit.”

The flannel pajamas were pale green with white bunny rabbits printed all over – and across the front of the top, it read “Some Bunny Loves Me.” The polar fleece pants were Sesame Street branded, with Ernie holding his rubber duckie. The t-shirt had the duckie centered on it, with “Rubber Duckie, You’re The One!” emblazoned in rhinestones.

“Both,” Misty said firmly. “I need them both.” She glanced at Maria. “If that’s okay with you, ducks?”

“Yeah.” Maria had to clear her throat as it was abruptly dry. “Whatever you need, bunny.”

~ * ~

Lance regarded the cell phone in his hand with suspicion. He didn’t like the odd nagging sensation he’d gotten when he read Clint’s text – like hearing the melody of a familiar song, but being unable to place the lyrics. He’d answered, of course – he did his best not to leave his clan unanswered – but the text itself bothered him.

The content was simple enough; a wry admission that the triad was having some irrational protective urges, and would he mind texting back to relieve their minds? It wasn’t the first such message he’d received since their Natasha-Care-Bare-stare-Harry-Potter-readathon, but it was the first one that piqued his curiosity.

He didn’t always understand these instincts – but bar none, following them had worked in the favor of the clan. So after he’d replied to Clint, he began texting the other Scoobies… just in case.

~ * ~


	11. Chapter 11

Phil stood in front of the door to Fury’s office for at least fifteen minutes before he could bring himself to knock.

“Come,” he heard immediately, and he pushed the door open. “Coulson, what can I…” His eye focused on the bottle in Phil’s hands. “Shit. If that’s the good stuff, I’m not gonna like this.” Phil placed the bottle on Fury’s desk, turning the label towards him. Fury sighed. “How bad is it?”

Phil sank into one of Fury’s guest chairs, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he did so. “Bad.” He hadn’t decided how much to tell the Director before he’d walked in, and now cursed his lack of planning. “It’s got to do with Misty – Agent Summers.”

Fury raised an eyebrow at his use of her first name. “I’m listening.”

“I need her UA to be changed to leave,” Phil said bluntly. “It’s not an unauthorized absence. Unplanned, yes. Regrettable… hell, yes. But it isn’t a UA.”

“Where is she?” Summers had been placed on report Monday morning, after failing to report to a Sunday shift in the medbay. None of her squad members knew where she was – or would admit to it, at least. 

“She’s with Hill.” Phil didn’t want to reveal that, but without knowing what sources Fury had in Manitowoc, he couldn’t be sure the Director wouldn’t find out about Misty’s presence there through other means.

Fury’s expression hardened. “And why should I excuse her for running to Wisconsin for a damned booty call?”

The hands Phil had rested on his knees flexed, fingers digging in as he tried to restrain his anger. “It wasn’t for a booty call,” Phil said sharply. “Agent Summers was unwillingly dosed with a chemical Saturday night. When she awoke, she went to the only female senior staff member she is familiar with.”

“She was assaulted?” Fury had straightened in his chair the moment Phil said ‘dosed.’ “Is she injured?”

“I haven’t gotten a full report,” Phil said. The defensiveness drained out of him, leaving him exhausted and heartsick. “Summers reached Hill at oh-dark-thirty this morning. She was still… altered. Hill was going to try to get her to a medical facility today.”

“Altered after how long?”

“We believe she was dosed Saturday night.”

Fury let out a low whistle. “Almost forty-eight hours?”

“Yes, sir.”

The Director steepled his fingers under his chin and tilted back in his chair to regard Coulson. He looked… more distressed than he thought normal, for a handler whose asset has been compromised. Fury didn’t really have a choice about his request – if he left an agent on report when she’d been raped, he’d be up on discrimination charges faster than he could file a disciplinary action. Still… if he could convince Coulson that he’d done him a favor… “She report it to the authorities?”

“Hill is an authority.”

“You know what I mean, Coulson.”

Phil shook his head. “Hill said she was still mostly out of it when she picked Summers up at the bus station. I don’t know if it didn’t occur to her to contact me, or if she couldn’t bring herself – in her altered state – to report it to a man.”

“You’re… close… aren’t you?”

He wanted to bristle, but there was no point in getting defensive. “Not as close as you’re suggesting. She’s my protege, my student. My friend. I would have thought she could trust me… considering she knows I’m not interested in her like that.” And he hoped that would be as much details as the Director needed— 

“She knows about your Mystery Date, then?”

“She does, but that doesn’t pertain to the situation, Director.” Phil firmly redirected the conversation. “I need to be able to assure her that her job is not in jeopardy. It… might help.” More quietly, almost to himself, he added, “Sometimes that’s all you can cling to.”

Fury softened internally, though it didn’t show in his expression. He’d known how fiercely Phil clung to SHIELD after Agent Price’s death – in fact, he’d kept clinging until he’d begun dating this mystery person. Mystery man, in Fury’s opinion, regardless of what scuttlebutt said. He’d watched Phil enough years to know who his gaze was likely to follow, and it was almost uniformly male. 

Whoever this man was, he’d gotten through a lot of Phil’s defenses. And while Fury might piss and moan about Phil not being at HQ at all hours… he deserved some happiness.

Even when it made being a hard-ass director a little more difficult.

“I’ll change her UA to leave,” Fury agreed finally, having let the silence draw out. “Tell Hill that Summers is her responsibility until she’s back on duty – until they’re both back on duty. I’ll need a report from Hill when she returns, but we’ll keep it off the record… for now.”

Phil let his shoulders slump slightly. “Thank you, sir.”

~ * ~

There was an additional vehicle parked in the Inn’s driveway when Maria pulled in – the minivan driven most often by Iris. “The girls are home from school,” Maria told Misty as they unloaded their purchases from the back of the SUV. “You up for meeting them?”

“I’m curious as hell,” Misty admitted. “I mean, I know sensei loves all his nieces and nephews but… these two have got him charmed, big time. Cuz and nascha too.”

Maria grinned. “They’re pretty awesome.” She juggled bags to open the front door, but it was yanked open before she freed up a hand.

“Hi!” Lily greeted them cheerfully, and reached to take some of the bags from Maria. Her eyes landed on Misty, and grew very wide. Rose, coming up behind her twin, froze in place. Both girls were losing what little color their pale complexions held.

“Uh, hi?” Misty said awkwardly. She tried to smile at the girl who’d spoken, but when their eyes met… “Sweet merciful Mother. You know what happened, don’t you?” Misty breathed. “I can see it in your eyes. Holy shit. How…?”

Maria looked at the shell-shocked twins and her shaken bunny. “Upstairs. All three of you, to the Yellow Room,” she ordered firmly. “Come on.” She herded them up the stairs – the twins were trying to watch Misty and walk at the same time, resulting in one minor collision with the wall. “Sit down, girls.” She gestured the twins to the chair by the window, not entirely caring whether they sat in it or on the floor. She dumped her bags onto the floor and turned to Misty, offering her arms. “It’s okay, bunny.”

Misty abandoned her own bags and burrowed into Maria’s shoulder. “How do they know, ducks? Does it show? Jesus, can everyone tell?”

“Lily, Rose, we need you to explain,” Maria ordered. She tried to make it a request, but with her bunny nearly in tears, her tact was deficient.

“I can tell that somebody hurt you,” Rose said, very quietly. Lily shot her a startled look. “Your shields are cracked and kind of crumbly. Like one of those stone walls in a garden, if you didn’t get enough sticky mud in it.”

“And I see that you’re sad.” Lily reached for her twin’s hand. “And confused, and I think hurting. A lot of mad, and some scared.” It was Rose’s turn to look surprised. “You’re so many colors, it would be kind of pretty, if I didn’t know what they meant.”

Maria smoothed Misty’s hair. “You were right about the mama mojo, bunny. They wouldn’t have known otherwise. It doesn’t show, Misty. I promise you that.”

Lily gripped Rose’s hand tighter. “We didn’t mean to make you upset. More upset.”

Misty swiped at her eyes, trying to calm her breathing before it could turn into sobs. Maria continued to stroke her hair. It was a few minutes before Misty could pull away far enough to turn her head and look at the girls. “I know. You’re Coulsons. You’re not cruel.”

“Not on purpose,” Rose agreed, “but it kinda feels like we were mean without meaning to be.”

“Just… I thought… when I saw your faces… just for a second, I thought your mom had told you what happened to me. Or your grandma,” Misty confessed, tucking her head back onto Maria’s shoulder. 

“Diane wouldn’t do that,” Maria promised her. She wished there was something more she could do – Misty was trembling again, and all Maria knew to do was hold her.

Lily’s chin trembled as she watched, her right hand clutching Rose’s left tightly. “Mom wouldn’t either,” she said quietly. “I know you don’t like her because she’s mad at Aunt Catriona – ”

“I like your mom just fine, Lily—” Maria interrupted, at the same time Misty spoke.

“Why is she mad at Catriona?”

Maria sighed and rested her cheek against the top of Misty’s head. She glanced at the twins – both still sitting rigidly on the carpet – and then down at Misty. “You think you can handle some twin cuddles? I think this would be easier to talk about if we were all relaxed.” Misty nodded her head against Maria, and the senior agent nudged her onto the bed. At her hand gesture, the twins clambered up as well, sitting cross-legged at Maria’s feet. “I meant the cuddling part, girls – Natasha seems to think there’s some extra magic in your hugs, and I think we could use it.” Honestly, Maria thought the twins needed it as badly as Misty – Lily still looked a breath away from tears.

Maria propped herself up against a couple of pillows at the headboard, Misty curled up under her right arm. She patted the empty space at her left, and Lily crawled up obediently. Rose mirrored Maria’s position on Misty’s other side, making sure she was in contact with the blonde agent, but not crowding her. Lily might have been intending to be as circumspect, but Maria seized her with her free hand and maneuvered the girl closer, wrapping her left arm around her shoulders. “Now. Let’s start at the beginning.” Maria felt a stab of amusement – even to her own ears, she sounded like Phil. “The flower girl on your side is Rose, and the one on my side is Lily,” Maria said to Misty, her cheek still pressed into the blonde hair. “Girls, this is Agent Misty Summers – your Uncle Phil calls her grasshopper.”

“Hi, Misty.” Rose patted her back gently. “Welcome to the Rainbow Inn.”

“You always cuddle people you haven’t been introduced to yet?” Misty asked. She’d been trying for snark but missed her target.

“No.” Lily reached a hand over Maria to touch Misty’s hand. “But you’re family, so it’s okay.”

Misty curled her fingers around Lily’s. “Do all Coulsons have that flexible definition of family?” Lily made an inquisitive noise. “We saw your Aunt Darla at her clinic today, and she said I was family too.”

“You are, and we do,” Rose said firmly. She kept her hand against Misty’s back. Her shattered shields seemed stronger, Rose realized, when they were all touching Misty. She didn’t know why, but if it helped…

Maria chuckled, rubbing her cheek against Misty’s hair since she couldn’t free up a hand to stroke it. “They did the same thing to me, bunny. Shocked the hell out of me.”

Rose snorted. “You’re Uncle Phil’s family, and he’s our family. It’s not that weird.”

“We’re not his blood relations,” Misty protested.

“Neither are we.” Lily’s reminder was soft. “Adopted, remember?”

“Somehow, it’s easy to forget,” Misty murmured as she burrowed tighter against Maria.

Lily waited until some of the colors around Misty dimmed before she spoke again. “Why did you get so upset that Rose and I can figure out something bad happened to you?” Misty didn’t answer her right away, but some colors sparked brighter. “Is it because we’re kids? Or…” she squinted, trying to figure out what that new color meant. “I can’t tell if that’s embarrassment or shame.”

“No shame, bunny,” Maria whispered. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Except be kind of stupid about people finding out you got hurt,” Rose corrected. “At least your family. ‘Cause I’ve met a couple of the Scoobies now, and I don’t really think they’re going to treat you different just because some jerkwad did something bad to you.”

Misty’s head jerked up off Maria’s shoulder and she twisted to stare at Rose. Maria sucked in a breath to reprimand the girl, but halted when she realized the quaking in Misty’s body was laughter. “Goddess, it’s no wonder you’re Natasha’s favorite,” Misty managed to squeak out between chuckles.

“Hey!” Lily protested without heat.

“You’re Aunt Catriona’s favorite,” Rose reminded her. “So I can be Auntie Nat’s favorite.”

“Does Catriona know about this… mama mojo of yours?” Maria asked, looking from one twin to another.

Lily and Rose exchanged glances around Misty. “She knows about mine,” Lily admitted. “That’s why Mom is mad at her – Aunt Catriona told her and Momma about it on Christmas. Aunt Catriona wouldn’t let me listen in, but I don’t think it went well.” She sounded so concerned that Misty squeezed her hand, hoping to return the comfort she’d been given so freely.

“I’ve never told anybody before.” Rose’s voice was just above a whisper. “Not even Lily.”

“Why not?” Misty asked.

“I didn’t want to be a freak.” Rose’s fingers twisted where they rested on Misty’s side. “It’s not… normal. I really just wanted to be normal.”

Lily’s face was stricken. “And then I had to go tell Lancelot that we weren’t normal, and you just let me!”

Rose sighed. “Yeah, well. I guess I needed to hear it, too.”

“You’re not freaks,” Maria said firmly. “Whatever mama mojo you’ve got is just… it’s a skill. An ability. I’m damned good with a quarterstaff, but that doesn’t make me a freak. Misty here can read body language like it’s neon signs, but that doesn’t make her a freak, either.”

“If the things somebody can do don’t make them a freak, then the things other people do to them shouldn’t either,” Lily observed, and her eyes slid from Maria’s to Misty’s. “Right?”

Misty blinked at the girl, nonplussed. “Damn. That was some Sensei level manipulation.”

“Frankly, that was several steps above Phil.” Maria tightened her arm around Misty. “She’s right, you know.”

“I know that.” Misty buried her face in Maria’s shoulder again.

Rose patted Misty comfortingly. “And of course, we shouldn’t treat anyone differently… whether they’ve got something they can do, or something that was done to them,” she said reflectively, not looking at Maria. “Especially when that somebody is a badass federal agent, and doesn’t want to be fussed over.”

“I’m telling Momma you said ‘badass’,” Lily teased. “Even though Misty totally is.”

Maria winced. “I’m not… treating her differently…” she began, but her protest died away. “Am I, bunny?”

“Only a little.” A Mona-Lisa smile quirked at the corner of Misty’s lips. “And I’m choosing to think it’s because you’re relaxed and on vacation.”

“Worrying about you isn’t new, bunny.” Maria’s voice was very quiet, and for a moment she regretted the girls’ presence. “Neither is enjoying your company, or needing to keep you safe.”

“I know that, ducks.” Misty nestled her head more firmly against Maria, letting herself relax into the familiar comfort – on her left side, stomach pressed against Maria’s right hip, one arm across Maria’s torso and the other behind her shoulder blade, tangled in her brown hair. “The feeling is mutual.”

Maria cradled Misty against her and brushed her lips against the blonde hair, wondering just exactly what feeling that would be.

~ * ~


	12. Chapter 12

They laid there, all four of them, for almost an hour before Misty sighed and sat up. “I still want a bath, and it’s getting close enough to dinner that I’ll have to be satisfied with chocolate for dessert.”

“One of us needs to call Phil,” Maria reminded her. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” Misty wriggled out from between Maria and Rose and stretched. “I’ll call him. Do you think anybody will care if I go down to dinner in my pajamas?”

“Nope.” Rose slid off the bed also. “Especially not if all four of us do it. I’ll change and start on my homework – knock on the door when you’re ready and I’ll go down with you.” She leaned over and kiss Misty’s cheek briefly before disappearing out the door.

“I’m gonna do the same,” Lily said. She didn’t kiss Misty’s cheek, but she did offer one more thorough hug before departing.

Maria smiled at the dumb-founded look on Misty’s face. “They’re something special.”

“Yes, they are.” Misty dug in the bags they’d hauled in for clean clothes. “Are you going to be upset if I want to be alone for a while? In the bath, and to talk to Phil?”

“Of course not.” Maria resisted the urge to wrap her arms around Misty again. “Whatever you need. I’ll just go down and let Diane draft me for KP. Surely there’s something I can’t screw up.”

Misty flashed her a grateful smile. “Just make sure you get time to change into your PJs, or Rose will be offended.” 

“I think I’ll just do that now, or I’ll forget… and I don’t want to disappoint Rose.” Maria half-smiled at Misty, reaching for her ducky pajamas. She made quick work of it, and saluted Misty saucily before exiting the bedroom.

The quiet was welcome. Misty filled the tub and added some bubble bath – because why not? – before sinking into steaming water up to her chin, and reaching for her cell phone. Sensei didn’t need to know she’d called from the bathtub, after all.

“Hey, sensei. It’s me,” she said when the call connected.

“Grasshopper.” The relief in his voice was almost palpable, and Misty felt a fond smile growing on her face. “It’s good to hear your voice. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m already tired of being asked that,” she retorted, her tone deliberately light.

He stifled a chuckle. “I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry for caring about you.” She made a noise of protest, and he laughed outright. “I’ll stop with the emotional declarations. I know you’re allergic. I would like to know how you’re doing, though.”

“I’m okay. Bruises and abrasions. No serious injuries.” She didn’t really want to go into the specifics, but as her friend and her chief he deserved to know. “I gave the clinic Catriona’s name as my primary care physician – would you give her a heads up? She’ll get copies of the reports, whenever they’re filed, and she probably shouldn’t be surprised by them.”

“I’ll let her know,” Phil promised. “Why her?”

She sighed and rolled her head against the edge of the tub. “I wanted to keep it in the family, and Maria didn’t think I should use Raj.”

Phil was silent a moment. “I’m sorry, grasshopper, but I had to tell Fury what happened. Not specifics, but that you were assaulted.”

“Yeah, I figured.” She couldn’t control the shudder that wracked her body. “Goddess, I hate that he has to know. The Director knowing anything about my sexual activity, consensual or not, is so weird.”

“I had to persuade him to change your UA – I’m so sorry, Misty.” 

She could hear the genuine regret in his tone, and was quick to comfort him before the regret could turn into guilt. “Sensei, you did what you had to do. This whole thing sucks, and I’m probably going to bitch about it. That doesn’t mean I’m mad at you.”

“You might yet be. I’m afraid I told Clint and Natasha before I realized what I was saying, right after you called. I should have – ”

“I didn’t expect you to keep it from them, sensei.” Her voice was softer now, gentle. “If I’d talked to you agent to handler, sure – but as my chief and my friend… they’re your spouses. Tell one, tell all. It’s okay.”

“I thought I was supposed to be reassuring you,” he said wryly.

She laughed. “Consider me reassured. Between Maria and your family, I’m all topped up on soothing. And cuddles. Damn, sensei – the flower girls are freaking awesome.”

As she’d hoped, it made Phil laugh. “They are. I’m glad you’re getting to spend some time with them. Not glad that you were hurt,” he backtracked rapidly, “I should have phrased that better – ”

“Phil. Cut it out.” Her use of his name stunned him into silence. “You know something your awesome nieces said this afternoon? We shouldn’t treat people differently because of something that happened to them. They’re right. I know you’re trying to be thoughtful,” she continued, less stridently. “I get that, and I appreciate it. But can you please quit with the second-guessing and self-flagellation?”

“Getting enough of it from Maria?” he ventured.

Misty glared at the phone. “Damn it, sensei.”

He pressed on – though silence would have been the better part of valor. “If she is bothering you, one of us can come get you.”

“Like hell,” she snapped. The vehemence of her protest startled her as much as it did Phil. “I need to be here, with her,” she added after a deep breath.

“You’ll be relieved to know that the Director agrees with you – though as far as he’s concerned, that’s only because Maria is the only female senior agent you are acquainted with. You’re officially on leave and in her care, until her leave is over and the both of you return to duty.”

His overly formal tone told her that she’d managed to hurt him. Damn. That hadn’t been her intent – but the suggestion that Maria was being unreasonable had stung. More than stung… she’d felt almost like it was an attack on herself, and not on her ducks. “If I pout and whimper, will you turn off the Agent Coulson voice and go back to being my sensei?” she asked wistfully. 

“Please don’t whimper. I can’t take it.” She’d have bet all the tea in China that he was rubbing his head right now. “At the risk of irritating you again – I’m sorry. As much as I detest using it as an excuse, my Chief senses are a bit off-kilter.” He made a rueful noise. “I had a bit of a meltdown this morning after you called. Thankfully, it was solved with some text messages… I didn’t have to pull out the Harry Potter.”

“Nascha might not forgive you, if you took over the reading,” Misty teased around a tight throat. Her heart ached for him – she hated that he was upset over what had happened to her. Hated it on one hand, but on the other… it was nice to know that he did care about her. Goddess, even in her own mind she was overly emotional. 

He chuckled, and she relaxed somewhat. Laughing was good. Laughing meant he’d be okay, even though he would worry. “Rather than risk her wrath, perhaps I’ll choose another book – James and the Giant Peach, perhaps?”

A giggle bubbled up – too juvenile to rightly be called a chuckle. “How long have you been waiting to use that? And how many books did you run through, trying to find one with a grasshopper in it?”

“I’ve been waiting months, and you don’t even want to know how many books,” Phil chuckled with her. “There are not enough grasshoppers in literature, I’m afraid.” He let her merriment settle naturally before broaching a more serious subject again. “I do need to know what I can tell your team. They’ll need to be told something – it’s frankly just luck that none of them have cornered me for an explanation yet.”

She sighed. He was right, and she knew it – but that didn’t make it suck less. “There’s not much point in trying to keep secrets from them, is there? If Lance or Angie thinks I’m hiding something – ”

“There are few secrets that can withstand their combined curiosity,” Phil agreed ruefully.

“Tell them the truth – I was drugged and assaulted,” Misty decided. “If they ask what… type of assault…” she faltered, “tell them to talk to me. I don’t want you to have to lie to them, either.” 

“I appreciate that, but I will – if you need me to.”

Misty swallowed hard. She wouldn’t ask him to compromise his integrity – but that he would offer meant more to her than she expected. “I know.” She closed her eyes, sinking a little deeper into the hot water.

“If you have no objections, I’ll see that they are informed this evening – don’t be surprised if you start getting phone calls. I’ll ask them to give you space, but…”

“But they’re a lot of busybodies, just like me,” she said with a grin he couldn’t see. “Thanks.” She meant it in gratitude for more than just telling the Scoobies where she was – meant it for a lot of things that she couldn’t voice.

He must have heard some of it in her tone, though, because his own was just as layered. “Anytime, grasshopper.”

~ * ~

Phil hung up the phone, and wished that he were home. He wanted a drink, followed by several hours cocooned in bed with his spouses – and since he was wishing for the impossible, he might as well add that he’d like all his clan under one roof, safely ensconced in front of the TV watching something mild and unthreatening.

He wasn’t going to get any of that, and he knew it. There was too much work to be done. The backlog had been bad enough with just Maria gone. Misty’s absence added to that in ways Phil was surprised to realize. It wasn’t precisely that the Scooby Squad didn’t function without her – but everything took longer, and was less organized. Chuck was an excellent second, but he didn’t have Misty’s natural leadership skills… or her ability to read people.

The knock on his door roused him from contemplation. Before he could stand and cross to the door to open it, Natasha pushed in. She closed the door behind her and locked it. 

“I don’t have time—” Phil began regretfully, but she shook her head.

“Wife veto. You need a break.” She extended her hand to him, and he rose to take it, bringing it to his lips to kiss her fingers. “Unless my mama mojo is malfunctioning, you just got off the phone with the grasshopper.” She stepped closer to him, brushing her fingers down his cheek. “You look sad.”

“I am.” He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “I’m also dreading telling the Scoobies.”

Natasha tucked herself close to him, maneuvering until she was nestled under his chin, and his arms had come up around her. “Let us help,” she murmured. “You don’t have to carry this alone, loverling. None of us do.”

“It seems like cheating, to have you two step in,” Phil admitted. “I’m their chief.”

“I’m their matriarch, and Clint feels as responsible for them as you do.” They had yet to find a word that properly described Clint’s place in the clan – he wasn’t their chief or patriarch, but he was… something. “And aside from them – loverling, you’re hurting. Let us help you.” Her arms tightened around him involuntarily. “Please.”

It wasn’t her words that convinced him – it was the tiny catch in her voice. “Alright.” He pressed a kiss into her hair. “Seven Scoobies and Catriona – how would you like to break them up?”

“I’ll call Catriona,” Natasha offered. “And find Sam and Chuck – they’re drilling some recruits in hand-to-hand today. Clint’s offering to talk to Angie, Al and Raj. You get Lance and CJ.” She paused, rubbed her cheek against him. “Save CJ for last,” she advised. “He’ll make you feel better.”

His chuckle rumbled under her ear, and made her smile as well. “Yes ma’am.” He tilted her chin up to face him and kissed her gently. “I love you.”

~ * ~


	13. Chapter 13

Maria felt a little ridiculous walking into the kitchen in her ‘Just Ducky’ pajamas, but Diane merely smiled a welcome at her. “Got anything I can help with? I tend to burn water, but I’m decent with a knife, and I scrub a mean dish.”

Phil’s mother laughed. “I expect I can put you to work.” She gestured Maria to one of the barstools and placed a bag of apples, a peeler, and a plastic bag to catch the peels on the counter in front of her. “Normally this is Sarah’s job, but I doubt she’ll mind the break.”

Maria ignored the peeler and instead stood and crossed to the drawer that held the knives, retrieving a small paring knife. It amused her that she could find it easily – Phil’s kitchen was laid out in almost exactly the same way, right down to the contents of the cabinets. “I appreciate you letting me help. I’m… edgy.”

“I know.” Diane laid a comforting hand on Maria’s arm as she walked by. “It’s not easy, when someone you – care for – is hurting.” At the last moment she censored herself. If Maria and Misty were not ready to acknowledge anything between them but friendship, she didn’t want to push. Well, she did – it was always in her nature to push – but she’d try to give them space nonetheless.

In an effort to avoid a discussion about caring for Misty, Maria pointed with the paring knife at the bag of apples. “How many of these am I peeling?”

Accepting the diversion, Diane smiled. “All of them. I’m making pie, and whatever is left I’ll use for apple cinnamon scones. We’ve guests coming in, starting tomorrow night. Valentine’s Day is a busy season for us.”

“Are we an imposition?” Maria asked, not looking up from her peeling.

“Of course not,” Diane scoffed. “Granted, I’ll have to ask you to continue to share a room – or for one of you to bunk with the twins.”

Maria shook her head. “Sharing is fine.” She handed Diane a peeled apple. “I’ll sleep better knowing where she is, anyway.”

“She’s not in any further danger here,” Diane said softly.

There was a trace of hurt in her tone, and it brought Maria’s eyes sharply to Phil’s mother. “I know that. I do,” she added, when Diane didn’t look convinced. “We wouldn’t still be here otherwise. I just… want to…” hold her close and keep her safe and never let go, Maria thought – but didn’t say.

Diane leaned over the counter and placed one hand over Maria’s, stilling the apple peeling. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words were forestalled by Sarah entering the kitchen.

“Mom, what time are the Turners due in tomorrow – oh, sorry.” Sarah jerked back, realizing she’d walked in on a Mom Talk. “Crap.”

Diane pursed her lips at her youngest daughter. “You have your father’s sense of timing,” she said mildly.

“Sorry.” Sarah sank down onto the stool next to Maria and seized the discarded peeler and an apple. 

Maria wasn’t entirely certain the interruption was a bad thing. It had looked like Diane was about to say something… emotional. And despite all the teasing from her clan for it, Maria didn’t do emotional.

She and Sarah peeled in companionable silence until they ran out of apples, at which point Diane replaced peel-catching bag with a cutting board and butcher’s knife. “One inch pieces, please, lovey – Maria,” she directed, correcting the nickname as soon as she’d said it. Maria was surprised that it didn’t grate as much as it had the first time she’d heard Phil’s mother use it, and wondered why.

“You must be good with sharp objects,” Sarah teased gently. “Mom never lets me chop the apples.”

“They’re not my specialty,” Maria said absently, focusing on cutting the apples into even pieces. “Not like Nat. Hell, even Catriona’s better than I am.”

Sarah wrinkled her nose. “Or at least, she likes to think she is.”

Maria jerked in surprise – and caught the tip of the knife in the fleshy part of her thumb. “Damn it.” Sarah spotted the blood and rose to fetch the first aid kit.

“Let me, ducks.”

Maria looked up, unable to keep a smile off her face. Misty was stepping through the doorway, clad in her new bunny pajamas, and looking every bit as adorable as Maria had hoped. “Sorry, bunny.” She extended her hand – sticky with apple juice and blood – and Misty took it without hesitation. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s bad enough,” Misty retorted. “Diane, do you have a clean cloth I can use?” Diane opened a drawer and retrieved a white washcloth, which Misty folded in half before pressing it over Maria’s wound. Maria hissed at the pressure but didn’t pull away. “Let’s see if that stops it, or if you’ll need stitches.” 

“I don’t need stitches, bunny,” Maria protested – but she didn’t pull away.

Misty made a humming noise. “I’ll be the judge of that.” Still holding pressure with one hand, she used a corner of the cloth to begin dabbing at the drying blood, gently cleansing the area.

“You’ve seen me injured worse in training,” Maria murmured.

“And I don’t like it then, either.” Misty flashed her a small smile.

Diane was watching them unobtrusively, having to reevaluate the nature of their relationship. It had been easy to assume that the differences in age and rank made Maria the dominant partner – that Misty would defer to her. An assumption, she realized, based on incomplete information – yes, Misty leaned on Maria. It appeared Maria was just as reliant on Misty.

Sarah returned with the commodious first aid kit – supplied and kept stocked by her nurse big sister – and placed it on the counter next to Maria. “You want me to – ”

“You can take over the apples,” Misty said with a smile, reaching for the kit. “I’ve got ducks.” Cautiously she lifted the cloth to check if the bleeding had stopped. It had slowed to a sluggish seeping, from a shallow wound about half an inch long. “No stitches,” Misty informed Maria.

“I told you so,” Maria murmured, and Misty mock-scowled at her.

“Hush, you.” She rifled through the first aid kit until she found the antibiotic ointment and a nice sized bandage.

Maria eyed the bandage. “No.”

Misty laughed. “It’s the right size, and it won’t kill you.”

“I am not wearing a Little Mermaid band-aid.”

“Would you prefer a different princess?” Misty asked, her eyes twinkling. “I think I saw Jasmine.” She flicked through the box again. “Oh, how about Mulan? At least she’s a warrior.”

Maria rolled her eyes and held out her hand. Misty carefully anointed her with antibiotic ointment before gently securing the gaudy bandage. Eyes twinkling, she raised Maria’s hand to her lips and kissed over the bandage. “All better.”

“Thanks, Doctor Bunny,” Maria said dryly.

~ * ~

Phil read the latest text message from his husband and shot back a short reply – Clint and Natasha had finished informing their Scoobies of Misty’s attack, leaving only CJ for Phil to tell. He’d spoken to Lance that afternoon, pulling the strategist in while the rest of the team was in a psy-ops simulation. Misty had suggested, weeks ago, that they try a few of the psychological warfare games without Lance, so that the group didn’t become too dependent on his quick thinking… and she’d been right, as their performance without him had been considerably below Phil’s standards.

On the other hand, the six Scoobies that had competed were standing up against records set by teams of eight, so perhaps he should give them the benefit of the doubt.

Lance had been shocked, of course – but in an odd way, not surprised. He’d guessed something was going on, though Phil wasn’t sure if that was his brain or a hint from Gaia. He’d accepted Phil’s explanation of what he knew and confirmed that Misty was safe with Maria before returning to observe the end of the Scooby Squad’s exercise – all with the calm aplomb that Phil had come to rely on from the ‘anchor of the clan.’ 

“Agent Coulson? You summoned me?”

Phil looked up from the paperwork quagmire at his desk and nodded at CJ in his doorway. “Please, come in, Agent Forrester. Shut the door.” CJ complied, his hand on the deadbolt with one eyebrow raised. Phil shook his head, rising and discarding his suit jacket. “Not necessary for this conversation. Tea?” He crossed to the electric kettle.

“Sure.” CJ made himself comfortable in one of Phil’s guest chairs. “Don’t take this the wrong way, boss, but you look like hell.”

“I’m aware,” Phil said dryly. He brewed two cups of Catriona’s soothing blend – cheekily called Serenitea – and carried CJ’s to him. He sat down on the edge of the desk facing CJ and cradled his mug in his hands. “I need to inform you of something, and it’s not pleasant. It’s also not public knowledge – the rest of the squad has been told, but it is not to be spread outside the clan.”

“Alright,” CJ said warily. “Hit me.”

“Misty was drugged and assaulted Saturday night. She’s missing forty-eight hours of memory.” Rather than sugar-coat it, Phil said it quickly and succinctly. “She is in Wisconsin with Maria, and will be until Maria returns to duty on the sixteenth.”

“Son of a bitch.” CJ leaned forward and set his mug of tea on the edge of the desk before covering his face with his hands. “How bad is she hurt?”

“All things considered, not badly.” Phil didn’t elaborate on her injuries – if Misty chose to share, that was her choice.

CJ scrubbed his face with his hands before reaching for the mug of tea and downing it like a shot of whiskey. “Can you tell me if she was – was it sexual?”

“She asked me to refer that question to her.”

“Which is as good as admitting she was,” CJ guessed, looking up at his chief for confirmation. Phil fought to keep his expression neutral, but something in his eyes must have given it away. “Son of a bitch.”

“She doesn’t remember,” Phil added quietly. “Maria has been texting me updates, and there has been no indication that Misty recalls anything from that forty-eight hour period. It’s possible something will surface…”

A shudder rocked CJ. “I don’t know which would be worse – remembering, or not remembering. Imagination can fill in a hell of a lot of worst-case scenarios.”

Phil leaned forward and put a hand on CJ’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t bring up too many unpleasant memories – the last thing I want to do is trigger a flashback, or a panic attack.”

The marksman smiled up at him crookedly, tilting his head to rub his cheek against Phil’s hand. “I was never fortunate enough to be given drugs.”

Unable to prevent himself, Phil’s hand moved to CJ’s hair, stroking gently. “I never know what to say when you talk about it,” Phil admitted. “Saying ‘I’m sorry’ seems inadequate and trite.”

CJ smiled at him again, this time with a sweetness that was closer to his true age than the one on his ID. “It might be, if I didn’t know you meant it. Funny thing is, I know you do – you are sorry. You aren’t responsible for it, and you’ve done a damned sight more than anyone else to make it right, but you still feel compassion… and that’s a beautiful thing, boss.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Phil continued to run his fingers through CJ’s hair. He hoped the young man was drawing as much comfort from it as he was. “I’m hoping she’ll talk to you,” Phil admitted. “Hoping she doesn’t bottle it up. I realize how hypocritical that is, thank you,” he retorted when CJ opened his mouth. “My spouses don’t let me get away with that anymore, though.”

“You said she’s with Maria?”

Phil nodded. “Apparently she wasn’t even entirely out of the window of impairment when she got on a bus and headed for Maria. No idea why she didn’t come to me.”

“Because you’re her chief, and Maria is—more.” CJ said simply. Phil’s eyes jerked to his. CJ shrugged, careful not to dislodge Phil’s hand. “I’m the watcher, remember? Not that I think it takes much to see how close they are. And they balance each other out – Maria is learning how to relax and have fun, and Misty is learning how to focus and prioritize.”

Phil pondered that silently for several long moments, his fingers still twining in CJ’s hair. “I hope this brings them closer together, and not…”

“I think they could weather damned near anything,” CJ said with a small smile. The fingers in his hair were making him sleepy – almost a polar opposite reaction to what anyone else’s touch would have caused. “Any particular reason I’m the last to know?”

The fingers in his hair stilled, and CJ looked up to meet Phil’s gaze. “Natasha suggested it.”

“I’m not upset, just curious.”

Phil pulled his hand away, reaching instead for his mug of tea. CJ tipped his head to keep his eyes on his chief. “I don’t know if it’s a chief thing or not,” Phil said finally, “but spending time with you – each of you – fills a different need. Time with Sam, or with Raj, aren’t the same as the time I spend with you.” He looked down into the mug. “You are restful company, faireoir.”

Cautiously, CJ leaned forward and touched Phil’s knee. “Taking care of me is restful, you mean.” When Phil would have protested, CJ squeezed his kneecap gently before sitting back in his chair. “It’s okay, boss. You’re a protector, a nurturer – you need that.” A smile lurked at the corner of his mouth. “It’s entirely possible I do, too. You’re the first person to ever really make the effort, you know.”

“Not many agents would be okay with their handler wanting to nurture them,” Phil said drily.

“You’re not just my handler,” CJ reminded him. “You’re my friend, and my clanchief.” Phil still looked uneasy. “What is it?”

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. “How do I know if I’m crossing a line with you?” It would be too easy to fall into treating CJ the same as he treated Rose and Lily – openly affectionate, physically demonstrative. The last thing he wanted was to make CJ uncomfortable in his presence – or to have CJ put forth as his Mystery Date in SHIELD scuttlebutt.

CJ snorted. “Because I’ll fucking tell you, boss. I’m young, but I’m not shy.” He nudged the older man’s knee with his own. “I did the suffering in silence thing when I was with the League – and I did the safe-but-unhappy thing with Doug and Louise. I’m not going to do either again.” He stood, plucking Phil’s empty mug from his hands, and walked over to the kettle. “Besides,” he added as he brewed a cup of headache tea for Phil, “if by some enormous chance I didn’t speak up, I am pretty sure your wife and husband would.” He handed the mug back to Phil.

“Thank you.”

The sharpshooter understood it was for more than the tea.

~ * ~


	14. Chapter 14

Misty discovered something about herself when she sat down to eat dinner with Maria and the Coulsons. Her heart and her brain trusted them implicitly – but her stomach rebelled at the idea of idea of drinking something she hadn’t prepared herself – and had her eyes on since. Worse yet was the notion of imbibing something alcoholic – anything that might impair her senses.

And it pissed her off.

She wanted a beer. Alex had handed around bottles from a local brewery, and she’d declined – but Maria had accepted, and the open beer sat on the table between their place settings… taunting her.

Maria caught her glaring at the beer bottle and raised an eyebrow. “You want some?”

Misty shook her head. “Smell is turning my stomach. Can’t imagine it’d be any better if I tasted it.”

In response, Maria rose and dumped the remainder of her beer down the sink, returning to her seat with a cup of fresh coffee. “Better?”

“I didn’t mean – you didn’t have to – ”

Maria reached for the hand that Misty was gesticulating with, catching it in midair and lacing their fingers together. “Your comfort is a hell of a lot more important to me than a beer, even if it is a good craft beer.” She picked up Misty’s mug of tea – untouched as of yet – and sipped from it before returning it to the table. “Let me take care of you, bunny,” she murmured, bending closer so that her words would remain private. “I can’t do much. Let me do this.”

“You do plenty,” Misty protested, but she did relax. “Thanks.” 

The remainder of dinner was a quiet, ordinary affair, and Misty soaked up the sheer normality of it. The food was several cuts above what she was used to – better even than sensei’s cooking. She even managed a second helping before accepting a slice of apple pie and ice cream.

If anyone noticed that she only ate from dishes Maria had also taken, they had the grace not to mention it.

After supper, Misty insisted on washing the dishes – though she relegated Maria to drying duty so as not to get her Mulan bandage wet. They moved with the ease of long practice, no less orchestrated than their training bouts, though less sweaty and more sudsy.

“Smooth,” Sarah remarked, watching them move. It was fascinating – Maria’s hand would reach out for a rinsed dish a fraction of a second before Misty finished with it – there was no extra movement, no wasted energy. “I’ve never seen a dishcloth ballet before.”

Maria looked back over her shoulder at Sarah, who was leaning up against the wall with her arms crossed. “If you think that’s impressive, you should see her in hand-to-hand combat.” She hip-checked Misty – gently – and grinned at the blonde. “Equal parts deadly and dancing.”

“Only if I’m fighting Sam,” Misty deflected with a smile. At Sarah’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Sam’s Gaelic name means dangerous dancer.”

“What’s yours mean?” Sarah asked curiously. “Phil hasn’t mentioned it.”

“Mine means little warrior,” Misty answered, draining the sink and rinsing it out as Maria put away the last of the dishes. “Laoch beag. According to Catriona, it’s more about my rank than my size… although I’m amused by being called ‘little’ by someone who doesn’t even come up to my chin.”

“Laoch scail, for me.” Maria hung the dishtowel on the bar of the oven door, tugging it until it was centered. “Shadow warrior.”

Sarah hummed. She wondered if there was a significance, their Gaelic names being so similar. She’d heard a few of them, now, and didn’t remember any others with ‘laoch’ in them, though if it meant ‘warrior’ it probably wasn’t that uncommon. Still… it was another piece of the puzzle. 

“Is there anything we can do to help with the guests tomorrow?” Maria asked, satisfied that she’d left the kitchen to proper Coulson standards. Misty flicked an eyebrow at her. “It is an inn, bunny. They’ve got clients.”

“Nah. The Turners are first in, and they’re easy.” Sarah grinned. “I’ll pick them up at the train station, take ‘em through town – Gary likes the ice cream at a particular parlor – and then it’s back here, where they’ll beat my parents at gin, rummy, poker, and any other card game they can talk Dad into playing.”

Misty chuckled. “Must have a hell of a poker face, to bluff your mom.”

“If it’s anything like Phil’s…” Maria grinned. “Did I ever tell you about the time he bet Clint in a hand with a drug lord?”

“Bet Clint?” Sarah blinked. “Bet him what?”

Maria snickered. “Clint was the prize.” At Sarah’s outraged expression, she laughed outright. “The cartel had Clint hostage, and we were outnumbered. Phil decided to try and negotiate with the head honcho instead of start a gun battle and… he beat him. Eight hands in a row.” Maria shook her head, still chuckling. “Your brother is a badass.”

“Did he really just let Clint go?” Misty asked incredulously.

“Oh, hell no. But the game lasted long enough for reinforcements to arrive – including a very pissed off Black Widow.”

~ * ~

“I told Diane we were fine with one room – I’m sorry, I should have asked you first,” Maria apologized as they entered the Yellow Room. “Diane said she’d need us to either continue to share a room, or one of us bunk with the twins, and I just answered for you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly,” Misty said, lobbing a throw pillow at her. “Of course we’ll share.”

“It’s hard not to feel silly in ducky pajamas.”

Misty laughed. “You look adorable, not silly.” She was silent a moment. “You weren’t pulling Sarah’s leg, were you?” Misty asked as she folded back the covers on the bed. “About that poker game?”

“Nope.” Maria stepped out of her ducky slippers and stowed them in her bag. “Actually, I kind of toned it down – it was less funny and a whole lot scarier to be there.”

Misty slid into bed and propped herself up on the headboard. “That had to be before they were a triad, right? I mean, they weren’t together that long before the Scoobies came along.”

“This was like… five years ago?” Maria settled onto the bed next to Misty, body turned slightly towards the blonde. “They weren’t a thing yet, not like they are now. But there’s always been… something.” She shook her head, eyes focused inward. “The only time I’ve ever been scared of Phil, it was because I was supposed to keep him away from Clint and Natasha.”

“Why?”

“Why was I keeping him away, or why was I scared?”

“Both.”

Maria sighed. “Nat and Clint were in quarantine – there’d been a release of a suspicious white powder in the – well, in their location. Sorry bunny, can’t tell you where. Point is, they were under lockdown. No one in, no one out.”

“I can’t imagine that went over well with sensei,” Misty murmured as she leaned into Maria’s side.

Maria slid her arm around Misty’s waist. “No. Not well. He was very reasonable at first – quoted me all sorts of statistics about contagion and fomites and rates of transmission – and then Clint started to cough.” Maria shivered. “Turned out later – much later – that he was allergic to one of the additives in the powder, but we didn’t know that at the time. Nat bullied us into sending in some cough suppressant – ”

“They didn’t have any? No doctor?”

“It was a very classified location,” Maria said. “We weren’t even supposed to be in that country, much less have a large presence.”

Misty yawned and tucked her head into Maria’s shoulder. “What happened to make sensei scary?”

Maria shivered. “Clint’s blood oxygen level started to drop, and I still wouldn’t let Phil through, and…” she trailed off, reliving those moments. “…I told Phil that I’d have to restrain him if he tried to pull his gun on me, and he said… you know, in that voice of his where you’ve crossed from ‘in trouble’ to ‘dead man walking’? He said he didn’t need his gun to kill me, and he’d prove it if I didn’t let him through. The words don’t sound that bad, but… Goddess, you should have seen his eyes.” She shuddered again and pulled Misty closer to her. “That was the last time a SHIELD agent tried to prevent him from getting to Barton or Romanoff.”

More than the words, Maria remembered the look on Phil’s face when he got to Clint. He had strode into the room like it was a perfectly ordinary debriefing, and approached Clint where he lay in a makeshift bed on the couch. Natasha had been kneeling on the floor next to the couch, trying to coax Clint into drinking from the water bottle she held for him, and she’d looked up at their handler with an unreadable expression – unreadable to Maria, at least. He’d held out one hand for the water bottle, placing the other on Natasha’s shoulder, and said in that infuriatingly mild voice of his “I thought we had an understanding about lying down on the job, Agent Barton.” Maria might have believed it was normal – except not less than ten minutes later, Clint’s vitals had stabilized and both he and Natasha were fast asleep under their handler’s watchful eyes.

“And people still don’t suspect their triad? I mean… I don’t know if I’d threaten to kill a fellow agent for blocking me from someone unless they were my significant other.” Misty’s voice was drowsy. 

Maria pressed her cheek against Misty’s hair. She understood Phil’s actions better, now. She’d do the same thing, if it was her bunny on the other side. “People see what they want to see,” Maria murmured. “There aren’t a lot of SHIELD agents that expect Agent Coulson to have a life outside SHIELD… so they don’t see it.”

“There’s an awful lot of SHIELD agents who don’t see the truth, but see a whole hell of a lot that isn’t there,” Misty grumbled. “Like Verley. Thinking you or I would sleep with sensei. Idiot.”

“Scuttlebutt’s a force to be reckoned with, for sure.” Maria paused. “Have you given any thought to what’s going to go around about this? You being here with me, on my involuntary vacation?”

Misty groaned. “I’d actually been trying not to think about it, thanks.” She was silent a moment. “People are going to jump to conclusions faster than a jack rabbit on cocaine.”

“Now that’s an interesting visual.” Maria stroked Misty’s hair thoughtfully. “We can ask Angie to guide the rumors… she’s very good at it.”

“Yeah, and tell them what?”

Maria’s hand stilled in the silky blonde hair. “Whatever you want, bunny.”

Misty bit her lip. The most obvious explanation would be a romantic rendezvous – but she didn’t think she could handle the knowing looks and innuendos… not with it being false. 

If it were real…

She couldn’t see that happening.

“You’re thinking awfully loudly,” Maria teased gently, resuming her hair stroking. “Talk to me, bunny.”

“Can we table that for now? Until we know what’s being said already?” It was cowardice, Misty knew – delaying it wouldn’t make the issue go away. “I just can’t tonight.”

“Of course,” Maria agreed immediately. “Sleep well, bunny.”

~ * ~


	15. Chapter 15

Lance didn’t ordinarily go to a bar on a work night, but he found himself joining the rest of the Scoobies at a back table in their favorite haunt that Tuesday night. He ordered his usual beer, but changed his mind before the server had left and ordered a bottle of whiskey for the table instead.

Raj waited until everyone had a drink before he cleared his throat. “So.”

CJ – who’d opted for coke instead of liquor – reached for the bowl of pretzels in the middle. He waited for Raj to continue, but the silence stretched interminably. Looking at his squad mates, he realized they were all looking shell-shocked to varying degrees. “Jesus, guys. It’s not like she’s dead,” he said finally. “Snap out of it.”

“I’m sorry, there isn’t a protocol in the manual for what to do when your squad leader is roofied, missing in action, and then AWOL eight hundred miles away at your handler’s parents’ house,” Al snapped. “How the fuck are we supposed to react?”

“Try being grateful she’s alive,” CJ retorted. “I’ve heard a lot of stories that start with ‘drugged at a bar’ that don’t end with ‘safe with a friend.’ I’m not a praying man, but you can be damned sure I said some thanks to a higher power for that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chuck said, leaning back in his chair. “You think she went all that way to Wisconsin just for a friend?”

Angie glared at him. “That’s none of our business, Chuckles.”

“Isn’t it?” he countered mildly. “Because I’d like to know why she didn’t come to one of us – or the triad.”

Raj coughed slightly. “Clint did say she was still altered, when she reached Maria – it’s possible that there was no real logic to her choice.”

Sam shuddered. “Still altered after what, forty-eight hours? That’s terrifying. What kind of drug could do that?”

“Maybe whoever had her dosed her repeatedly,” Lance speculated. His gaze was distant, a familiar expression on their tactical strategist. “But why? What’s the motive? Why Buffy? Why that bar? Why keep her that long? Why let her go?”

“That’s a fucking lot of whys,” Angie sighed.

Chuck drained his glass and poured it full again. “How about adding another one? Why was Misty out drinking by herself anyway?” There was shocked silence. “And at a gay bar? What the hell was she thinking?”

Angie – mild-mannered, cheerful Angie – growled at him, low in her throat. The hand resting on the table clenched in a fist, and it was even odds whether her other hand was reaching for a knife or her sidearm. “You’re not suggesting this is her fault, are you, Charles?”

“That a pretty girl can’t expect to go to a public place, have a drink, and walk out safely?” Sam added.

“Whoa.” CJ held up both his hands. “Time out. I don’t feel like explaining to the boss why he’s got to bail us out of jail for starting a brawl, okay? So let’s just take a deep breath.”

Lance tipped his head in CJ’s direction. He hadn’t expected their youngest member to play peacemaker tonight – usually that fell to him. “CJ’s right. Emotions are a little high right now.” He raised an eyebrow at Chuck. “I’m sure our second-in-command was merely expressing his frustration that none of us were with Misty to provide aid, and regret that she had to go through this experience alone.”

“Yes. Right. That.” Chuck nodded, draining his glass again. His hand was trembling slightly – he could take Angie in a fight, he thought – but if she and Sam decided to go two-on-one against him, he wasn’t sure he’d make it out without becoming a eunuch.

“And Angie and Sam were expressing their frustration that a capable woman like Misty could be victimized in such a manner without prompting the intervention of others in the bar, weren’t you?” Lance turned his gaze on the female Scoobies. Angie nodded, retreating into her mask of an innocuous data analyst – though Lance was damned sure none of them would forget seeing the warrior behind it.

Sam continued to gaze at Chuck. “I’m not dropping it until you explain what you meant by ‘and at a gay bar’ because it sounded a hell of a lot like you were suggesting that increased her risk.”

Chuck didn’t say the expletives running through his brain, but it was a near thing. What came out of his mouth instead was, “What do you care? You’re not gay.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, his eyes went wide. “Shit. That’s not – ”

“Great Goddess, I miss Buffy,” CJ groaned loudly, lowering his head to the table and banging it against the formica. As he’d hoped, it distracted his squad mates from the immediate argument. “I don’t know how the hell she manages it, but somehow she can keep us all from putting our feet in our mouths, and without her we’re like filter-less teenagers. Have mercy,” he pleased dramatically, clasping his hands together theatrically. “Can we please have this conversation without bloodshed or challenges to duels? Misty’s going to be so pissed if we go postal on each other.”

Lance pursed his lips. It wasn’t a distraction tactic he’d have used – but it was working. 

There was a moment of quiet before Al spoke. “Do you not think she will be equally upset that we are discussing her behind her back?”

CJ shook his head. “I don’t think so. You guys all know a little bit about my past, right? That I was a captive?” He ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp briefly as they nodded. “Well, one of the parts that sucks about having a gigantic black hole of nasty in my background is having to tell people about it – having to say I’d been a victim. I think the triad’s trying to save Misty from that – and us discussing it, I think we’re just… getting over the worst awkwardness before she gets home.”

“Yeah, but your nasty was a long time ago – not last weekend,” Angie protested. “It’s been what, eight years for you?” CJ nodded. “You’ve had more time to wrap your brain around it, deal with it.”

“I don’t think that’s relevant,” CJ protested. “When you’ve been a victim of – anything… people treat you differently, when they find out. Most people,” he corrected, thinking of Phil, Clint, and Natasha. “Doesn’t really matter how long ago it happened, it matters how long ago the other person found out. We’re basically giving each other a head start on being able to treat her normally.”

“Is she going to want normal?” Raj asked.

“I would have,” CJ said softly.

Sam folded her arms. “You were just a kid. I think it’s different. You didn’t have a team of agents waiting for you, trusting you to be able to back them up in the field. Did Coulson say how badly she was injured? To any of you? Because if it’s going to impair her in the field, then fuck no, I’m not going to treat her normal. I like myself in one piece, thanks.”

“That’s a little harsh,” Angie protested.

CJ cleared his throat. “I was told she wasn’t injured badly. I think her being out on leave this long is more for our sakes than anything.” He didn’t add that he also thought it was because Misty and Maria needed the time together – and didn’t breathe even a hint of his supposition that Misty had been raped. If she wanted to tell the others, that was her right – but it wasn’t his place.

Lance drained his glass and sat back in his chair. “If we’re this fucked up, imagine how she feels,” he said quietly. “Imagine how our chief feels, knowing one of his people is hurt. You didn’t see his eyes,” he said to the five Scoobies that Clint and Natasha had told. “Personally, I’m glad we’ve got more than a week to wrap our heads around this – because the last thing I want to do is make it worse, for anybody.” He let his eyes meet each of his squad mates’ in turn. “And if you think you’re not affected by this – imagine saying any of what you’ve said here tonight in front of the triad, or Maria – or Misty.” Several pairs of eyes darted away from his at that statement. “Now. I’m going to call a cab, and I’m going to go home. I’m going to do what CJ suggested, and get down on my knees and thank all that I hold holy that Misty’s alive, and that we can sit here tonight bitching about it instead of planning a funeral or sitting a wake.” He stood up. “Good night.”

~ * ~

Misty awoke abruptly, clamping her mouth shut on a panicked exclamation. She didn’t know what had woken her – until she reached for her ducks, and found the bed empty.

Okay. That was okay. She was safe, even though Maria wasn’t there. She was safe in bed in the Yellow Room. No reason to panic.

No reason, maybe, but no preventing it, either. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing – trying to uncurl her hands from their desperate clutching of the blankets – trying to convince herself that she was safe here – 

“Hey, bunny – it’s okay.” And then Maria was there, stepping out of the bathroom already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, sitting next to her on the bed and pulling her close. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, I should have waited until you were awake.”

Misty let herself be comforted, burrowing closer to Maria until her nose was pressed into the soft warmth below Maria’s ear, feeling the steady beat of her heart and the calm, measured breaths she was taking. She had no idea how long it took for her hands to relax, for the air to stop feeling like it being sucked out of her. Finally the tension left her, and she was left feeling limp and drained.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” Maria murmured, smoothing Misty’s hair back from her face. “You were sleeping so soundly, and I didn’t want to wake you. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It should be me apologizing,” Misty managed to say finally, not lifting her face from Maria’s neck.

Maria stroked her hair. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, bunny.” She wanted to add that holding her – comforting her – was never a burden, but the words stuck in her throat. It was too much, too soon. Too close to admitting things she wasn’t ready to consider.

“I feel like an idiot.”

“You aren’t.” Maria shifted until she could pull Misty almost into her lap, keeping it the repetitive stroking of her hair.

Eventually Misty was able to pull away, though she couldn’t quite meet Maria’s eyes. “I should get dressed. Did you have plans for today?”

“My plans pretty much involve making myself useful to the Coulsons, and taking care of you,” Maria admitted. “And maybe getting around to asking some questions about Catriona, investigating for Phil.”

“Can I help?”

Maria smiled at her, running her hand down Misty’s blonde hair again. “Like I’m going to turn down help from one of the brightest squad leaders to grace SHIELD in a decade.”

Misty snorted. “You don’t have to lay it on that thick, ducks.”

“I’m not.” Maria frowned at her. “Haven’t you seen your evals?”

“I’ve seen mine – I haven’t seen anyone else’s to compare them to.” Misty stood and began rummaging through the clothes they had bought yesterday. 

“Good point. Well, they’re exceptional,” Maria told her. She figured it was safe to return to the bathroom briefly to fetch her hairbrush. “Top ten in your bracket.”

Misty snorted. “There were almost six hundred rookies in my training bracket, ducks. It’s not hard to hit the top ten percent, with that many to start. Hell, half of them dropped out before we hit the practical exams.”

“I didn’t say top ten percent, bunny – I said top ten.” Maria touched Misty’s arm, waited until the blonde met her eyes. “As in, you were number eight out of those six hundred rookies. If I had to rank you against all active SHIELD agents, you’d probably still be in the top twenty-five, and that includes senior agents.”

“You’re biased, ducks.”

Maria’s brow furrowed. “I’m basing that on quantifiable scores, not personal opinion.”

“Sam beats me in hand-to-hand, Lance beats me at tactical, Angie beats me at tech, Al beats me in communication – and that’s just my team.” Misty plucked a Reading Rainbow t-shirt out of the bag – Madame Lark had a huge selection of nostalgia tees, and Misty had enjoyed selecting ones that reminded her of her childhood – and started to dress. “I’m not exceptional.”

“You damned well are, and stop arguing with me.” Maria’s voice had firmed, and the touch on Misty’s arm changed to a clasp and added a gentle shake. “Yes, your team is full of people with exceptional skills – in one area. Lance can beat the pants off most anybody in tactical, but he falls behind on combat skills. Al is a hell of a linguist, but he can’t run an interrogation to save his life. Sam is lethal, but ask her to plan an extraction and you might as well start hauling in body bags. You – you can do it all, bunny. Sure, you might not be the top in everything, but you can do it. And frankly, your skill with people means you’ll never have to do it all yourself, because your superpower is finding the people with a skill set higher than your own, and trusting them to get the job done. It’s the same skill that turned Phil into the badass super secret agent handler that we know and love. So please, for the love of Gaia, stop talking down about yourself.”

Misty blinked. That wasn’t ducks talking. That wasn’t even Maria talking. That was Deputy Director Hill speaking, and it was damned hard not to listen. “Okay.” Misty swallowed hard. “Okay, I get it. I thought… I thought sensei was… exaggerating.”

“He doesn’t exaggerate about this stuff.” Maria released Misty’s arm. “Trust me when I say you’re one of the best agents I’ve seen.” She grinned. “I do this for a living, remember?”

~ * ~


	16. Chapter 16

Over coffee and some of Diane’s muffins, the Coulsons and their guests settled on a plan to deal with the expected full-capacity of guests arriving at the Inn. Sarah was serving as chauffeur and tour guide, as well as running the Inn’s errands – she’d spend much of the next several days in one vehicle or another. Diane and Alex were alternating in the kitchen – Alex was the better cook, but Diane was a better baker, and both skills would be utilized fully. Misty was surprised to hear that the Inn served not just breakfast, but lunch and dinner to guests who chose to pay for that service. Iris and the twins, when they were at home, helped with the housekeeping.

Misty immediately volunteered to help freshen up the suites and change linens. “I worked at a hotel in college,” she told Diane with a smile. “I can strip and make a bed in no time.”

“I’ll be glad of the help,” Diane agreed. “Iris has offered to take a few days off work, but if you’re willing…”

“Very willing,” Maria responded. “And I’ll take over KP. I can’t cook, but I can clean.”

“You cook just fine,” Misty murmured. Maria rolled her eyes. “We’re glad to help, Diane.”

It was a relief to Misty to be busy – and she felt a little guilty that part of the relief was being busy alone. As she changed sheets and folded towels, there was no one asking her if she was okay – no one glancing over to see if her reactions were within normal parameters.

She’d had no idea how annoying that could be.

She’d finished with the Blue and Green Rooms and had started on the Rose Room when her cell phone rang. “Hey, cuz.”

“Hey back at you,” Clint said cheerfully. “If this is a bad time, let me know.”

“Nah, this is good.” Misty started to strip the linens off the bed – red, for the Rose Room – as she spoke. “What’s up?”

Eight hundred miles away, Clint was scratching his head thoughtfully. “Occurred to me this morning that Phil’s not the only one that needs to know you’re safe. I mean, I know Maria’s there, and you’re safe at the Inn, but…”

Misty grinned. “But you needed to hear my voice?”

“Yeah. Is that weird?”

“Not weird.” Misty extracted a clean set of sheets from the linen closet and carried them back to the bed. “I’m okay, Clint. Bruised and pissed off, and weirded out by food and drink I didn’t prepare, but I’m okay.”

“Phil had a thing against mixed drinks, after he was dosed,” Clint agreed. “You knew about that, right? Did Maria tell you?”

Pinching the phone between her ear and shoulder, she started wrestling the fitted sheet into place. “She told me. She also told me that you got a ping from the Goddess when it happened…” she trailed off, not sure how to ask why Gaia hadn’t alerted anyone to her condition.

Clint sighed. “Yeah. About that.” He fidgeted in Maria’s chair – he’d commandeered her office for this conversation, wanting to be private. “I might have had a word with Mama. Might have started out giving Her a piece of my mind.”

“You yelled at the Goddess over me?” Misty wasn’t sure if she was horrified or flattered. Maybe both.

“Yeah. Well. Not my finest moment.” His tone turned embarrassed. “Know what She told me? The reason She didn’t tell any of us what was going on? We didn’t ask.”

Misty sat down on the edge of the mattress. “What the hell, Clint?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair and tugging on it. “I know, I feel so fucking stupid. When you went UA, it should have been the first thing we thought of – asking Gaia if She could tell us anything. It never occurred to me. Nat either, and she’s even more pissed at herself than I am. I’m not really surprised Phil didn’t twig to it – he’s been running ragged trying to be two people at once. Maybe three, considering just how much crap Maria takes care of around here.”

“Please don’t be mad at each other over this.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “It’s bad enough, what happened, without it… without causing problems for you guys.”

“Oh no, Buffy.” If he could have reached her, he’d have swept her up in a hug. “No, we’re not mad at each other. Mad at ourselves, a little. Or a lot. But not at each other. I promise, grasshopper.” Clint wished he could see her face – and then jabbed the video call button on his phone.

Misty held up the phone as the video connected, and didn’t bother to try and hide the fact that she was wiping away a tear. “Hi.”

“Goddess, grasshopper. You are a sight for sore eyes.” He leaned forward, eyes intent on her. “I did not have a clue I needed to see you. Hear you, yeah. Didn’t expect to feel like my heart was unknotting when I laid eyes on you.”

“I didn’t think of it either, and I could have used seeing sensei.” She touched the screen. “Nascha and sensei busy?”

“Unfortunately, yeah. And I’ve only got a few more minutes – then I’ve got to go recertify some agents on some unusual firearms in the range. I tried pawning it off on CJ, but he hasn’t got the right level of instructor certs yet.” Clint grinned. “He will.”

Misty chuckled. “Be gentle with him, cuz. He’s just a baby.”

He gave her an odd look – she couldn’t quite translate it. “Young doesn’t mean weak – or incapable.”

Huh. Apparently Clint had a soft spot for the sharpshooter – more than she’d expected. She’d noticed CJ getting more comfortable with sensei, but didn’t realize it extended to the other members of the triad. It would be good for their youngest member to spend more time with Clint. “I was teasing. I know he’s a damned fine agent, but I’ve got to tease him about being the baby.” She grinned. “He’s too good at most things for me to tease him about his skills, and he doesn’t have any embarrassing hobbies for me to poke at, either.” 

Clint wanted to argue that she shouldn’t tease him at all, but he knew it would be futile. That was part of how Misty managed her squad – part of how she kept it a cohesive unit… she treated it like a family. Teasing the youngest member was part of that.

So was fussing over an injured one. “Are you comfortable there? At the Inn?”

“Yeah.” She plucked at a wrinkle in the fitted sheet. “It’s weird that it isn’t weird.”

Clint laughed – a full, boisterous laugh she hadn’t heard in a while. “Lance mentioned when he was there at Christmas that our clan motto should be ‘It’s probably weird’ and I have to agree. But yeah, I felt that way at the Inn, too. Like it was somewhere ingrained in my brain as ‘home’ even though I’d never been there before. And Mama Diane…”

“You call her that? Wow.” She’d known Clint was fond of Phil’s mom – who wouldn’t be? – but didn’t know he’d started to call her ‘Mama.’ That felt… significant.

He was almost blushing. “Well. Yeah. I mean, she’s my mother-in-law.”

“You’re adorable,” Misty told him, her eyes twinkling. “Yeah, Diane is awesome. So are the twins.” She paused. “They’re… talented.”

Clint’s eyebrows rose. “Lily talked to you? About her mama mojo?”

“Mmmhmm.” She didn’t add that Rose had too – if Clint didn’t know, it wasn’t her place to tell him. “She could… tell. What happened to me. Or at least, her mojo gave her enough clues to figure it out. Scared the crap out of me. I thought Sarah or Diane had told her.” She shuddered.

“They wouldn’t—”

“Yeah, I figured that out. Didn’t stop the initial freak-out.” Misty sighed. “I’m already tired of the freak-outs.”

“I wish I could tell you that they go away.” Clint’s eyes were fixed somewhere off screen – staring at nothing, Misty thought. “It’s never that easy. I think they get farther apart, and less severe. Mostly.”

Misty bit her lip, but curiosity won out over politeness. “Is that the voice of experience?”

Clint’s eyes refocused on her through the screen. “Yeah. Not exactly like what you went through – but…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Misty assured him, then chuckled. “And now I sound like Rose.”

“You do.” His smile was a little forced. “It was before SHIELD, when I was part of the carnival scene. Took me a long time to decide it was rape, because I didn’t fight him. Didn’t want it, but didn’t fight it.” Clint was proud of the fact that he didn’t stumble over the word – was able to say it normally.

“It counts,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, Clint.”

His smile remained, but there was a sad light in his eyes. “It was a long time ago. I just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, you know? It’s not the same, but…”

“I wish hugs could be transmitted through video chat,” she said, and settled for touching her finger to the screen. “I know I’m not alone. Unfortunately, there’s too many of us in the clan that have lived this particular hell. At least I don’t remember it.”

“Small mercies.” Clint glanced away from the screen again and cursed. “Sorry, Buffy, but I’ve got to run. Give my love to the Coulsons, will you?”

“You got it, cuz.” Misty hung up the phone, tucked it back into her pocket, and resumed her housekeeping chores. 

She’d finished the Rose Room and moved on to the White Room (which had black curtains, to her bemusement) when her phone rang again. Sighing, she tugged it back out of her pocket. “Hi, CJ.”

“How in the hell do you keep these idiots from self-destructing?” he asked without pausing for a greeting. “Sometimes, really smart people can be so fucking dumb.”

Misty couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing. “Amen to that. Welcome to my world, faireoir. What are they doing?”

“The ones that aren’t on shift are probably sleeping off bitching hangovers.” He sighed. 

“Hangovers?”

“I refer back to my statement about dumb.” He sighed again. “Apparently, the instinctive reaction of the rest of your teammates to finding out you’d been attacked is to freak out about how to treat you, how it will impact themselves, and to say dumbass things that make other teammates want to hit people. By the way, don’t ever piss Angie off.” CJ whistled. “She can shoot fire out of those eyes, and I’m damned glad it wasn’t me she was pissed at.”

“Okay, I think I need more information.” By the time he finished repeating the conversations, she was rubbing her head in a gesture she’d picked up from sensei. “You were right, I’m pissed that you guys went off on each other – but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“If anybody asks, I gave you an edited version. I don’t really want to be known as the tattle-tale as well as the baby of the group.”

“I protect the identities of my confidential informants,” she said solemnly. “And I’m damned grateful, both for what you said last night and for repeating it to me today.” She heard a humming noise and hoped it was a pleased noise from CJ. “How’s the temperature today? They seem to be settling at all?”

CJ grunted. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of most of them. Raj gave me one of his distracted waves on his way up to the science labs. Chuck saw me coming in the mess and did a perfect about-face. Damned near ran into the wall.”

“Idiot,” Misty growled. “Not you, Chuck,” she added, when CJ made a distressed sound. “I’ll give him a couple of days, but if he doesn’t get his head out of his ass, I’m siccing Natasha on him.”

“Ouch.” She could almost hear him wince. “That’s brutal.”

“I can’t afford to let this fester,” she added, tone softer now. “I need the squad at peak performance.”

“Not that I’m arguing, but… why?” CJ sounded both curious and wary.

Misty weighed her words. “I’ve got a feeling. Nothing definitive – not like a distress call from the mothership or anything. Just… a gut feeling. Missions have been ramping up the last few months, in frequency and difficulty. Makes me twitchy. I want us to be on our toes… and that means somehow getting this motley crew of misfit toys to work together, even if they want to wrap me in bubble wrap.”

“Hey, I’m not bubble wrapping you,” CJ protested. “Not only don’t you need it, it wouldn’t work.”

“And knowing that, my dear baby agent, is why you’re my favorite.”

He blew a raspberry. “Not a baby. But I’ll take favorite.”

“Does it actually bug you when I call you that?” She thought back to Clint’s reaction. “Cuz seemed defensive about it, too. If it really genuinely upsets you, I’ll stop.”

“Not… exactly.” He seemed to be debating something. “It’s just… more accurate than you realize.”

“You gonna explain that?”

“Would you prefer the truth, or plausible deniability?”

Misty abandoned her chores – she’d finished making the bed and was folding towels – and instead moved to the chair by the window. “Truth. And I just sat down, so feel free to wallop me with it.”

“Right. Well.” CJ cleared his throat. “This is for your ears only. The triad knows, but – seriously, this can’t get spread. Chief could lose his job. And probably face criminal charges.”

Misty’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, okay. Officially concerned now. I’m all ears.”

“Phil falsified my records to get me into SHIELD early – he added three years to my age.”

“You’re sixteen?!” Misty was glad she’d sat down, and even so she was feeling a little dizzy. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

“So you can kind of see why Clint – or any of the triad – would get a little twitchy when you mention my age. And I’m dead serious, Misty – Phil could get in a hell of a lot of trouble for that, if it came out.”

“No shit.” Misty rubbed her face. “Okay. I’ll cut back on the ‘baby’ talk. I mean, you’re still the youngest but… yeah, there’s no sense making anyone start thinking about it. I don’t want to put a spotlight on you.”

CJ snorted. “Ain’t me I’m worried about, Buff.”

“Well, yeah. I can see that.” His situation must have been pretty awful, for Phil to take that kind of risk – and it made a little more sense now, why CJ was growing closer to Phil. “Thanks for trusting me with the truth, CJ. I really appreciate the openness.”

“You know, you’re… welcome to do the same,” CJ said awkwardly. “Trust me, I mean. With… whatever.” He paused. “If there’s something to tell. If you want.”

Goddess, he was sweet. He was trying so hard not to outright ask – she could almost hear him chewing over the words, trying to find the right combination – trying to help. She felt a rush of affection. She’d never had a brother, not for real – but she’d bet this was exactly how it would feel.

She was silent long enough that he spoke again. “Shit. Was I wrong? About…”

“No.” She wouldn’t lie to him – he deserved the truth, too. “No, CJ, you weren’t wrong. I was raped.” She took a deep breath. It seemed to get a little easier, every time she said the words – each time she admitted what had happened. “I’m not keen on everyone knowing about it, though. Did sensei tell you, or did you guess?”

“I guessed.” He snorted. “As if sensei would break your confidence like that, Buffy. I asked him point blank, and he told me I had to ask you, and I pressed. His eyes answered.”

“They do that, sometimes.” Misty hadn’t really expected that sensei would have told, but it was nice to have it confirmed – and she wasn’t surprised that CJ had filled in the blanks. “I asked him to refer that question to me – but you’re the first to ask. Actually, you’re the first Scooby to call, too.”

CJ grunted. “Which just means they’re proving my point about smart and dumb.”

“More like you’re the only one with first-hand knowledge, so you have a better idea of what not to say,” Misty corrected gently. “I don’t know it for a fact, but I don’t think there’s sexual assault in any other Scooby’s history.”

“You could be right.” CJ mulled that over. “I’d prefer to think you’re right.”

“Me too.” She rose from the chair and returned to the bathroom and her housekeeping duties. “I really am doing okay, CJ. I know that’s what you were trying not to ask. It’s not just a front. I’ve got a few new hang-ups, and for right now it’s best if I’m not alone when I wake up, but… I’m okay.”

“If you wind up not feeling okay, you can call me,” he offered quietly. “And if you’d rather talk to a professional, I can give you the name and number of my therapist. She’s not SHIELD, but she’s been read in on a lot. I’m not saying you need her, but… she’s been a lot of help to me.”

She smiled. “I’ll keep it in mind. I’m more likely to talk to you, or another clan member.”

“Like Maria?” he asked, sly humor in his voice.

“Yes. Brat.” Misty shook her head, amused.

CJ cleared his throat. “If she… uh… needs someone to talk to, too… let her know she can call me, alright? I can’t imagine this is easy for her, either. She really cares about you, Buffy.”

“You,” she managed to reply around a tight throat, “are an absolute treasure, CJ. I’ll let her know. And… just so you know, I care about her, too.”

“I know. I’m the watcher, remember?” He chuckled. “I’ve got to run, Buff. I’m supposed to be down on the range with Clint, but I wanted to call first.”

Misty laughed. “He called before he went down. Have fun with the recerts. And CJ? Thanks.”

~ * ~


	17. Chapter 17

Maria was half-zoned out over a sink full of dirty baking implements when a pair of arms slid around her waist from behind. She froze momentarily, but relaxed when she identified them as belonging to Misty. “Hey, bunny.” She smiled over her shoulder, but the blonde wasn’t looking at her.

Misty pressed her cheek against Maria’s shoulder blade. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”

“You’re fine.” Maria patted one of Misty’s hands with her own soapy one. “I like it when you hug me like this. You remember the first time you did it? At Christmas, after we opened our tags.” She touched a damp finger to the metal pendant around her neck – the clan token that Phil had given each of them.

“I remember.” Misty rubbed her cheek against Maria. “I wasn’t sure you’d let me comfort you.”

“I wasn’t sure then, either.” Maria scrubbed another mixing bowl clean – there seemed to be an endless number of them. Between Diane and Alex, it seemed like she’d washed every dish in the kitchen twice already – and run the dishwasher twice, too. Oh well. At least she was useful. “When I fell apart last weekend – you know, thinking I was being forced to come out? – Lily and Rose each put an arm around my waist, and I kept wishing it was you, instead.”

Misty tightened her arms around Maria’s waist, a smile growing on her lips. “Did you?” She liked that idea – not that Maria had needed comforting, but that she’d wanted Misty to do it. “You know, we didn’t really talk about it. Your meltdown, I mean.”

“I don’t want to burden you – ” Maria began.

“Don’t be stupid, ducks.”

Maria barked out a short laugh. “Yeah, okay. I should have known that wouldn’t fly.” She scrubbed a handful of utensils before she spoke again. “It basically boiled down to the usual – I’ve been told I’m unlovable often enough that I believe it, and I’ve been ashamed of my… orientation… long enough that it’s hard for me to accept that other people don’t find it shameful.”

“You are not unlovable,” Misty growled. Her arms tightened again, enough so that Maria let out a squeak and put one of her hands over Misty’s. “Sorry, ducks. Just. You aren’t. And it pisses me off to hear you say it.”

“It’s not like I can just flip a switch and turn that off,” Maria said quietly. “My stepmom said it a lot. Practically from the time she married my dad, and I was like, three. She didn’t say it in front of Dad, at first… but eventually.”

“He didn’t argue with her?” That pissed Misty off even more, but she managed not to squeeze harder.

“No.” Maria kept washing – keeping her hands busy, and not having to make eye contact with Misty, made it easier to keep talking. “I think he blamed me for my mother’s death. I told you she died giving birth to me, right?” She felt Misty nod against her shoulder. “I think she was the love of his life,” Maria continued softly. “I think he remarried because of me – because he thought I needed a mom. Just didn’t work out like that.”

“Sounds a bit like Cinderella,” Misty murmured. “Except, you know, no evil stepsisters. Or handsome Prince.”

Maria chuckled. “Yeah? Who’s the fairy godmother, then?”

“Catriona. Duh,” Misty answered. “Petite pretty pixie.”

Maria was silent for a long moment. Hearing Misty call Catriona pretty bothered her – a lot. More than she’d expected, and more than she thought was normal. Why should it matter to her who Misty thought was pretty? It was none of her damned business. She waited until she could be sure her voice was steady before she replied. “Does that make the Scoobies the mice, or the birds?”

Misty laughed, and this time the squeeze around her waist was affectionate. “Cuz would never forgive us if we cast him as a mouse when he had the potential to be a bird.”

“True.” Maria wrung the dishcloth out and pulled the plug from the sink. “It wasn’t just my stepmom that thought I was unlovable,” Maria said as she watched the water drain. She didn’t like talking about her feelings, but she knew it would be easier to continue the conversation than to work up the courage to do it again later. “My first girlfriend… actually, the second and third, too… remarked on it. First one told me I was ‘emotionally stunted.’ Second one went with ‘repressed.’ Third one said a lot of hateful shit – but then, she got booted from the Marine Corps with me. I can’t really blame her for being upset.”

“I can.” The growl was back in Misty’s voice. “Don’t tell me their names,” she cautioned. “Not unless you’re okay with me hunting them down and kicking their asses.”

Maria wiped her hands on a dishtowel and turned around to face Misty, careful not to dislodge the arms around her waist. “In that case, don’t tell me False Phil’s full name, either. Because if asses are going to get kicked, I call dibs on his.”

Misty searched Maria’s face – for what, Maria wasn’t sure – before tugging her closer and tucking her head into the crook of Maria’s neck. “Deal.” She was quiet a moment. “Can I ask about the other part, or are you not ready to talk about it?”

One hand automatically went to Misty’s blonde hair. “You can ask, but I’m not… I haven’t really… had time to process anything.” She’d been too busy worrying about her bunny to consider her sexuality.

“You can’t use me as an excuse, ducks,” Misty murmured against Maria’s neck. “If you aren’t ready, that’s fine. But I’m not an excuse.”

“No, you’re right.” Maria cupped her hand around the back of Misty’s head, holding her close. “I guess I’m not as ready as I want to be.”

“I’m not going to push you.”

Maria smiled against Misty’s hair. “I know, bunny. I appreciate that.”

“Maria, if you’re finished with the – oh.” Diane halted mid-step, looking at Misty and Maria with a raised eyebrow. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Misty pulled away – reluctantly. “Not interrupting.”

Maria snagged one of Misty’s hands before she could disengage entirely. “I’m finished with the dishes… what’s next?”

Diane looked between them, working very hard to keep from blurting out the questions clamoring in her mind. “I thought you might like the afternoon to yourselves. The girls will be home shortly, and they can pick up any last-minute chores before Sarah brings the Turners here.”

“What do you think, bunny?” Maria asked, tugging on Misty’s hand. 

“I think I may have looked at some of the tourist pamphlets laying about in the guest rooms…” Misty admitted, grinning at Maria, “and may possibly have a list of really silly, kitschy activities that I’d like to do while we’re here.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Maria murmured.

“There’s a cheese factory, ducks! Open to the public!” Misty grinned. “We can’t visit Wisconsin and not go to a cheese factory!”

Diane laughed. “You mean Henning’s? They only make cheese in the morning, lovey. You can go tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Misty’s face fell. “What about the candy shop? Beerntsen’s?”

“They’re open, yes – you don’t get to watch them make the candy, but they do have a restaurant and ice cream parlor,” Diane told her, hiding a smile. “It’s downtown in the historic quarter. You’d enjoy it – and wander around some in the shops, too.”

Misty turned expectantly to Maria, who laughed. “Anything you want, bunny.”

~ * ~

They’d bundled up – it was February in Wisconsin, not exactly t-shirt weather – and now were strolling down 8th street, enjoying the picturesque shops and scenery. Misty had tucked her hand into Maria’s, tugging her across the sidewalk to peer into shop windows with an enthusiasm that made Maria smile. 

“Oo, look.” Misty stopped in front of a teacup display at an antique shop. “Pretty.”

Maria laughed. “Pretty, yes. You drink your tea out of a travel mug that says ‘MINE’, I don’t think you really need to be looking at antique bone china teacups.”

“Maybe I want to get one for Catriona for Christmas,” Misty said distractedly. “Look, that one’s got shamrocks on it. Perfect gift for an Irish lass.” When Maria didn’t answer her, Misty pulled her eyes away from the display to look at Maria. “What? What’s the matter, ducks?”

Maria shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Don’t start lying to me now,” Misty snapped, the relaxed humor draining from her. “What the hell, Maria?”

She closed her eyes briefly, searching for… patience? Courage? She didn’t even know. “I’m sorry, bunny. I’m just… irrational about her, I guess.”

Misty released Maria’s hand and crossed her arms over her chest. “About her, or about me mentioning her?”

“Both?” Maria missed the feel of Misty’s hand the moment she pulled away. “Look, I’m trying to be honest here. I don’t know why it bugs me when you talk about her. It just does, and I’m trying not to let it, but I suck at it, okay?”

“You really don’t know, do you?” Misty asked quietly. She met Maria’s baffled gaze, and something in her own eyes softened. “Oh, ducks.” She reached out her hand again and Maria took it, relieved. Misty tugged on the hand until she had an armful of Maria, and tucked her head into the older woman’s neck. “She’s my kin, ducks. Same as Nat or Angie or Sam. That’s all she is to me, okay? If we were looking at knives, I’d be thinking of Nat. Guns for Sam. Glittery fluffy crap for Angie. It’s just part of me shopping, okay?”

Maria wrapped her arms tightly around Misty and pressed her cheek against the silky blonde hair. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

They stood there a moment longer before Misty gently disengaged herself – though she kept Maria’s hand tucked in her own. “Can we keep shopping, or do we need to head back?” She peered into Maria’s eyes, trying to evaluate her state of mind.

“Shopping’s fine, bunny.” Except she could use a drink – and knew she wouldn’t ask to stop anywhere that would serve her one, not with as sensitive to the smell of liquor as Misty was proving. “Maybe we can hit that candy store next, pick up some goodies for the clan?” That would be easier – she knew what sort of sugary treats they liked, and she didn’t think buying chocolate would rile up… whatever emotion it was that made her act like an ass.

“Candy it is.” Misty smiled at her, a little wistfully, and led her down the street to Beerntsen’s.

When she pushed open the door and breathed in, her face broke into a brilliant smile. “We can never tell cuz about this place,” Misty whispered to Maria. “We’d have to roll him home.”

The young woman behind the cash register giggled. “Is your cousin a candy fiend?”

“Oh, yeah,” Misty said, her eyes wide as she looked at the jars and boxes and racks of candy. “It’s like walking into Willy Wonka’s factory,” she marveled, and began to wander around.

Maria watched her with a fond smile. “I don’t suppose you know what Phil’s favorite candy is, bunny?” Misty shook her head, eyes still exploring. “Maybe you can help me – our friend Phil grew up here in Manitowoc. Would there be anyone around who might remember him?”

Misty caught Maria’s eye and raised an eyebrow. If Maria really wanted to know, she could just call Diane – or one of Phil’s sisters – and ask. But Maria flashed her a hand signal – ‘investigate.’ Oh, right. Their mission. Find the information leak about Catriona for Phil. Right. She’d been distracted by… everything… and hadn’t given it much thought.

“I can run back and ask my dad?” the young woman offered diffidently. “The shop’s been here for, like, ever.”

“Maybe you know Phil? Coulson?” Maria asked, with careful nonchalance. “His parents own the Rainbow Inn.”

“Oh!” The young woman’s eyes lit up. “You mean Special Agent Coulson!” Out of sight of the cashier, Misty rolled her eyes. “He has a standing order sent to him in DC!”

Maria turned to Misty. “You think this is where he gets those chocolate raspberry things for Nat?”

The young woman – her nametag said Emma – grinned even wider. “You mean his wife? Yeah! He has a box of chocolate raspberry delights sent to his wife Natasha and a box of chocolate covered espresso beans sent to his husband Clint every month! It’s like, clockwork. Sometimes he calls and adds to the order, but always those two things.”

“Cuz has never shared those,” Misty grumbled. “I want a box,” she told the cashier. “Of those coffee things.”

“Sure!” Emma spun on her heel and looked at the racks of candy behind her.

“Phil ever order anything for himself? We’d like to take him back a surprise – he recommended the Inn to us, you know.” Maria put her elbow on the counter and leaned in towards Emma.

Emma placed the box of chocolate covered espresso beans on the counter and beamed at Maria. “Sure!” Misty wondered if the girl had a setting other than ‘perky.’ “He likes our cherry bombs.” At Maria’s raised eyebrow, she added, “It’s like, this super strong cherry filling inside a dark chocolate shell, and then drizzled with coffee-cocoa glaze. Except sometimes he orders half cherry, half raspberry.”

“Of course he does,” Maria said, flicking her eyes at Misty. The squad leader smothered a laugh. Coffee, cherry, and raspberry sounded like the culinary equivalent of the triad, alright. “Is that something we have to order? We’re here another week, if they need to be custom made.” 

“We have the cherry ones in stock,” Emma said after checking behind her. “We’d have to make up the raspberry ones, though.”

“I think the cherry ones would be fine,” Maria told her. “We’ll take a box of those.” Behind her back, Maria sent her another hand signal – ‘red doctor.’

That puzzled Misty until she realized it had to be Catriona – and that clearly they were going to need to come up with a signal for the druid. “What about Nat’s sister?” she asked Maria. The glint of approval in her eyes told Misty she’d correctly interpreted the gambit.

Emma paused. “You mean the one who was here at Christmas? That Mr. Larson grabbed at church?”

Maria’s posture stiffened, and she drew herself up as her gaze sharpened on the girl. Emma shrank back. “Grabbed?”

“Easy, ducks,” Misty said quietly, abandoning her browsing to step up next to Maria and slide an arm around her waist. “She was here at Christmas, yeah,” Misty told Emma with a smile. “Last Christmas, too. But we didn’t hear about any incident at a church.”

“Really?” Emma leaned forward conspiratorially. “Mr. Larson – he’s kind of a bully, and I guess he made a pass at her after the Women’s Group meeting… I wasn’t there, I had to work, but my best friend’s big sister was there and…” she whistled. “I guess Agent Coulson’s wife just like, lost it. I heard she almost broke his neck. I’m sure he deserved it, though,” she added hastily. “Like, who messes with the sister of a Special Agent? That’s just dumb.” Maria and Misty exchanged glances. “But I didn’t know she was here the year before. I think I’d have heard, too,” she added. “My older sister is a total gossip.”

“Right.” Misty didn’t roll her eyes, and didn’t say what she was thinking – that gossip ran in the family. “So she didn’t come in to the shop?” Misty redirected the focus back to the shop’s products, hoping Maria would follow her lead.

“The sister? Not that I heard.”

Misty nudged Maria towards a display of candy. “Let’s pick out some stuff for our team,” Misty suggested. Maria gave her a sharp look, but complied.

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cheese factory and candy shop named are real places per Google. I made up some of the candy items, but the candy shop has a website and you really can order from them!


	18. Chapter 18

“What the hell, bunny?” Maria burst out, once they were back in the SUV. “I wanted more information about whatever happened at Christmas!”

“You won’t get it from a shop clerk who got it from a friend who got it from a sibling,” Misty pointed out. “If you want to know that bad, you should ask Catriona. Or Natasha.” Maria scowled at her. “Yeah, I know. Horror of horrors, you’ll have to admit you actually care about her, and are worried.” Misty’s gaze shifted to the side window.

Maria’s eyebrows furrowed and she looked more closely at Misty. “Bunny?” She didn’t ask if she was okay – she clearly wasn’t. And she didn’t know how to ask without upsetting Misty further.

Misty let her eyes drift back to Maria – where they wanted to be, anyway. She knew what Maria was trying to ask, but she wasn’t sure how to answer it. Yes, she was upset. Because that fire in Maria’s was hers, damn it.

But Maria didn’t know that. Didn’t see that. 

Her ducks could go from snapping at her over wanting to buy Catriona a Christmas gift to ready to defend the druid’s honor in the span of an hour, and have no idea why that might give Misty emotional whiplash.

Maria twisted in her seat, reaching for Misty. She offered her hand, and Misty took it reluctantly. “Bunny,” Maria repeated, this time softer. “That young woman just told me there’s some asshole in this town who grabbed a woman – in a church – and obviously in enough of a public place that she’d heard it through the grapevine. Yeah, I’m pissed that Nat didn’t tell me about it. Not because of whatever happened with Catriona, because Nat obviously handled that – but because that means there’s a threat here that I didn’t know about that I want—need—to protect you from.” Maria’s voice sharpened, and she tugged at Misty’s hand until their eyes met. “And if you think I care more about Catriona than my bunny, I’m going to kick your excellent ass.”

Misty blinked. She opened her mouth to answer – twice – and found words had simply left her.

The first time, Maria merely held her gaze, waiting patiently.

The second time, Maria’s lips twitched. When that didn’t prompt a response, she let the twitch turn into a grin.

Misty couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up. “I’ll have you know, my ass is several grades above excellent,” she said loftily.

“I monologue at you, and that’s what jumps out at you?” Maria laughed. Her expression sobered as she squeezed Misty’s hand. “What was it you said earlier? Catriona’s kin to me – no more, no less. There… might have been something else,” Maria admitted hesitantly. “Maybe, at one point. A thought. Not anymore.”

Misty was startled that Maria would admit that. It wasn’t a surprise – she’d seen the flash of attraction herself – but she hadn’t expected Maria to acknowledge it. “I know. I… might have had that thought myself.” She looked down at their clasped hands. “Not anymore,” she agreed.

“So can we agree that she’s just kin?” Maria pressed, rubbing her thumb over Misty’s knuckles. “Because we can’t just avoid talking about her. I mean, I’m supposedly investigating an information leak about her. It’s going to come up. And I’d rather not get upset or make you upset every time it does.”

“I can agree to that.” Misty squeezed Maria’s hand. “Let’s go back to the inn, ducks. I don’t think I’m as ready to be out in public as I thought.”

Maria nodded and released her hand to start the SUV. “Still want to do the cheese thing tomorrow?”

“You don’t mind?”

“That you want to do the cheesy tourist things?” Maria’s lips twitched at the pun.

“That I want to go back now.”

Maria’s eyes flickered at her, then back to the road. “No, bunny. I don’t mind. I told you before – whatever you need.”

Misty wanted to argue the point – she wanted to be treated like an equal, not always deferred to. But she wasn’t ready for that discussion… wasn’t ready to explain to Maria that she wanted to be an equal partner… because that word had weight to it that she couldn’t shoulder right now.

~ * ~

The Turners proved to be pleasant dinner companions, and Misty let herself be talked into playing poker with them. Iris excused herself to do the dishes and Sarah to help the twins with their homework, but Phil’s parents and Maria joined Misty and the Turners at the kitchen table for a “friendly” game of poker.

After the third hand, Gary Turner pushed forward the stack of pennies he’d bet and folded his arms. “Alex, you didn’t tell me she was a damned card shark.”

“Who?” Alex feigned confusion, looking at Misty and Maria. “They’re just guests, Gary.” His wife Lydia snorted.

“Maybe I should have introduced myself more clearly,” Misty said with a smirk as she raked in the pot. “Hi. I’m Agent Misty Summers, Phil Coulson’s protege.”

“And I’m Agent Maria Hill… where Phil is the right-hand, I’m the left,” she added with a grin.

Gary started to laugh, reaching for his beer. “I should know better than to play cards with secret agents. Last time I played against Phil, he cleaned me out.”

“Good thing you were playing for peanuts,” Lydia murmured. “He’d have won the house.”

Misty covered her mouth, suddenly nauseous as the scent of beer on Gary’s breath reached her. Goddess, she hated feeling sick to her stomach… but not as much as she hated having a damned trigger. She lifted her tea to her lips, hoping the smell would blot out the scent of booze.

“You okay, bunny?” Maria murmured. Misty started to shake her head and thought better of it. “What can I do?”

“I just need…” Misty began, rising and moving towards the back door. She regretted that immediately as the room began to spin.

Maria leapt up and steadied her. “Is it the smell?” she asked quietly. “Don’t nod, just… yeah, hand signal. Okay.” She eased Misty towards the door and cracked it open. Misty leaned against her, closing her eyes and concentrating on the clean, February air.

“Is she alright?” Diane asked from the table. She had risen as well, but gestured the others to stay put.

“She will be,” Maria replied with a distracted smile. “If you’ll excuse us?” Without waiting for a reply, she supported Misty out the back door and onto the porch.

Not concerned about appearances now, Misty sagged against Maria, burrowing her into Maria’s neck. “I hate this,” she whispered.

“I know, bunny.” Maria wrapped one arm around Misty’s waist and rested the other hand on the back of her neck, tucking her in tightly. “It hasn’t even been a week. You’re allowed to not be okay.”

“I’m so fucking tired of it.” Tears pricked at her eyes, and that pissed Misty off, too. “I want to scream and yell and – fuck, I want to shoot something.”

Maria smoothed the blonde hair down, pressing her cheek against Misty’s head. “I know. I wouldn’t mind putting a hundred rounds downrange myself. Want me to find out if there’s a shooting range around?”

Gratitude swamped her. Goddess, she didn’t know what she’d do without her ducks. “Yeah. Okay.”

Maria pulled her cell phone out of her pocket with the hand she’d had around Misty’s waist and was thumbing through the contacts when it rang. She looked at the display and sighed. She activated the speakerphone. “Hey, Nat. You’ve got both of us, and we’re outside on the porch.”

“Grasshopper?” There were a lot of emotions in that word, Misty realized – more than she’d expected from Natasha.

“Hi.” Her voice was cracked, muffled against Maria’s neck – and just as loaded with emotions. She hadn’t realized she’d needed to hear Natasha.

“If you need me, you say the word and I’m on a Quinjet towards you before you hang up the phone,” Natasha said. Maria wasn’t sure, but it sounded like she was trying not to cry, too.

Misty managed a weak chuckle. “I love you too, nascha.”

“Mama said you were upset,” Natasha added. “I’ve been trying not to crowd you – and trying to make sure none of the Scoobies crowd you – but.” She sighed. “Clint is telling me not to apologize.”

“Cuz is right. You don’t need to apologize.” Her voice was clearer now – she’d tucked her chin enough to make it easier to speak, but hadn’t pulled away from Maria. “I’m just feeling fragile and pissed off about it.”

“You are not fragile,” Maria said firmly. “You have a few perfectly understandable aversions.”

“Yes. What she said,” Natasha agreed. “What kind of aversions?”

And so Misty told her – in more detail than she had managed to tell Clint or CJ, or even sensei. This was Natasha, her matriarch. Her friend. The only person she was more open with was Maria. At the end of her fifteen minute rant about how she wanted a fucking beer, everyone to stop tiptoeing around her, and to utterly destroy several bricks of ammunition, she felt… lighter. “Most of all, I really, terribly, wickedly hate these mood swings,” Misty admitted. Her grip on Maria had eased, but she hadn’t released her entirely. “I’ve felt like screaming, crying, laughing, shouting – all in the last couple of hours.”

“I hate to break it to you, grasshopper, but they’re perfectly normal after a trauma,” Natasha said, regret coloring her tone. “They suck. Trust me, I get it. So do my husbands – I get them at Yule. Clint gets them at Litha.” She paused. “If you think they were weird this past Christmas, they were worse the year before. I’d barely known the twins for a few days, and I cried all over Rose. Scared her half to death.”

That made Misty feel less like a freak. Sure, that was psychic mama mojo crap, but if Natasha could survive them, so could she. “Thank the Goddess for me, will you? For letting you know I was upset? I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk to you.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment. “It wasn’t the Goddess that let me know, grasshopper. It was Mama Diane.”

“Oh.” Now Misty couldn’t decide if she should be angry at Phil’s mom. Yes, she’d kind of overstepped her bounds but… she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t know you called her that, too.”

“Clint’s nicknames tend to stick. You’re not upset, are you?” Natasha asked hurriedly. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t be mad at Diane. She’s just… being a mom.”

Misty swallowed hard. It had been a long time since she’d had a mom that could do that. Her own had been in full-time hospital care for three years, and her mind had been going even before then – it had probably been five since Pamela Summers had really been her mom. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll try.”

Maria pulled her close again and smoothed her hair down. “Phil would have done the same thing, if their places were reversed,” she pointed out quietly. “The twins probably would have, too, if they’d been in the room.”

True. Misty sighed and nestled her head into Maria’s neck. “Any idea when I’ll start feeling like myself, and not like I’m a playground full of mood swings?”

“Phil is telling me not to give you a timeframe, Clint is telling me he’ll let you know when he does, and I’m telling them both to shut up and let me answer for myself.” Misty snickered, because that last bit was said sharply to the two men she could hear in the background. “There isn’t a hard rule for it. I wish I could tell you, ‘oh yes, you’ll be fine in six weeks’ and not be lying to you.” Natasha paused. “I think letting yourself feel everything makes it happen faster. The times I’ve allowed myself to feel, it seemed to… resolve sooner.”

There was a muffled discussion on the other end before Phil’s voice replaced Natasha’s. “There’s a shooting range about twenty minutes from the Inn.” He rattled off an address. “Dad’s a member. So is Thom. Get one of them to take you.” He paused. “Get Thom to take you. He’s got a better gun collection, and he’s less likely to say something accidentally hurtful.”

More gratitude swamped Misty – and a wash of affection for her strange, cobbled together clan. “Thanks, sensei. We’re supposed to go see cheese made in the morning, but I’ll see if we can go shred some targets in the afternoon.”

“At Henning’s Cheese?” Phil sounded surprised. “Doing the tourist thing? Good for you. When you talk to Thom, see if he’ll set up a tour for you at the Maritime Museum. You’ll love it, Ria – there’s a World War Two submarine you can tour, it’s been meticulously restored – the USS Cobia.”

“Hey! You’ve never taken me to the submarine!” Clint protested in the background. “I wanna go see the underwater shoot-em-uppers!”

“Stop interrupting, or I’ll show you a shoot-em-up,” Natasha warned, and sounds of a mock-fight rang through the speaker.

“Go stop Russia from annihilating Iowa,” Maria advised Phil, her eyes twinkling.

“And sensei? Thanks.”

Phil’s voice was warm. “Anytime, grasshopper.”

~ * ~


	19. Chapter 19

“Did you know that somebody gave Queen Victoria a half-ton wheel of Cheddar cheese as a wedding present?” Misty asked, looking up from the brochure in her hand to meet Maria’s dancing eyes.

“I did not.” Nor did she particularly care – but she wouldn’t spoil Misty’s fun. The blonde was alternating between reading the handouts in her hands and staring with rapt fascination at the cheese-making occurring behind glass windows.

They weren’t the only customers in the museum-shop-viewing area – but Misty was probably the most enthusiastic. There’d been a three year old boy come through about an hour ago who had maintained a similar level of absorption… for about ten minutes. Misty was on her second hour of captivated observation, and showed no signs of losing interest. 

Maria wasn’t watching the cheese-making, and she had already read every sign on every display in the small (but interesting) cheese museum. She had eyes only for her bunny, and had given up being subtle about it.

She’d called Thom this morning before they set out for the Henning’s Cheese Factory, and set up both a visit to the shooting range and a tour of the submarine. The Maritime Museum was for tomorrow, but Thom was meeting them at the shooting club this afternoon. Maria’s fingers itched to try out some of the more exotic pistols in his collection – and for the familiar buck of her service pistol. She, like Misty, carried a Glock 19, and she’d put a hell of a lot of lead downrange with it. Clint might escape to the range with Lucille and his quiver, but when Maria needed to blow off steam, she used her Glock. Unless, of course, she could find a sparring partner for quarterstaff drills… but that didn’t happen as often as she wanted.

Thom had promised not just the use of his membership and gun collection, but a thermos of Marine tar and another set of eyes on Misty. He hadn’t seemed to think it odd at all that Maria would be worried about that, or that she might welcome an experienced Marine to help her keep her bunny safe. 

Maybe that was another reason to visit the shooting range – to remind herself that Misty was a damned good agent, and she could protect herself. (Usually, Maria’s traitorous mind supplied. Clearly, not always.) Seeing Misty score some bullseyes might help Maria to stop feeling like she had to watch Misty every moment of the day.

“Look! They’re cutting it into curds!” Misty flashed a bright smile at her, and Maria couldn’t help but grin back. Obediently, she moved closer to Misty and rested a hand in the small of her back, watching the curd mill. “Now I’m starving. And I want macaroni and cheese. Did you know Thomas Jefferson popularized macaroni and cheese?”

“I did not.” Maria grinned at her. “But I’m pretty sure bunnies aren’t supposed to eat cheese.”

Misty wrinkled her nose. “Yeah? Ducks aren’t either.”

Laughing, Maria tugged Misty away from the cheese viewing windows. “I suppose you want to buy half their stock and take it home to the clan?”

“Well, duh.” Misty rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding? As good as sensei’s lasagna is, can you imagine it with really good cheese?”

“Are you sure he doesn’t already use the really good cheese?” Maria asked, her lips twitching. “I mean, he grew up here. I imagine he’s picky about cheese.”

Their conversation had drawn the attention of the shop clerk – an older gentleman, maybe a decade older than Alex, with bright eyes and gnarled hands. “Grew up here, you said?”

Misty flashed him a smile. “Yeah. Phil Coulson, his parents own the Rainbow Inn? We work with him.” She trailed her fingers over the packaging of some of the cheese curds – Cajun cheddar cheese.

“Ah, yes! I remember young Philip.” Of course you do, Maria thought to herself. Is there anyone in this damned town that didn’t? “He went to school with my kids – Jonathan and Janet.”

Maria grinned. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any embarrassing stories you want to pass on? I can always use blackmail material.”

He laughed, and started telling her of an awkward adolescent Phil, and his teenage courtship of Janet. Misty listened with half an ear, piling the items she wanted to purchase onto the counter in front of him. The idea of a lanky seventeen-year-old Phil asking Janet to the senior prom was pretty damned amusing, Maria reflected – even if it tickled at her brain like she was supposed to remember something about it.

“Alright, I think I’m done,” Misty said, patting the large pile of cheese products on the counter.

Maria eyed the pile. “Good Goddess, woman. You’re going to turn into a cheese curd.”

“Hey! Most of it’s for the dojo!” Misty said defensively, though her eyes were twinkling in amusement. “And if the lasagna is as good as I hope, we might be getting more delivered.”

The clerk’s eyes were twinkling in response. “To where? Washington?”

“DC, yeah,” Misty said, digging in her pocket for her ID and credit card. “Ooo. Not just lasagna.” She grinned at Maria. “Cheesy scalloped potatoes. Now we need to find a good source of potatoes.”

Maria snorted. “If it’s vegetables you want, we should ask Catriona. I’d bet she grows everything there is to eat.”

The clerk – whose nametag read Jacob – paused in the process of ringing up and bagging her purchases. “That’s an unusual name,” he remarked. His tone was different, but Misty couldn’t put her finger on why. “Scottish?”

“Celtic,” Maria corrected – in exactly the same firm tone that she used when someone called her Army instead of Marine. “More Irish than Scottish, I think.”

“I wonder if she feels about the Scots the way you do about flyboys and squids,” Misty chuckled. She signed the credit card receipt that Jacob handed her, and they packed their cheesy spoils into the SUV.

~ * ~

The Manitowoc Sportsmen’s Range was Maria’s favorite kind of shooting environment. It only had a 25-yard range indoors – plenty, for the kind of shooting she was after today – but it had friendly people, and classroom space large enough to spread out and relax.

Thom met them in the gravel parking lot, leaning up against a silver pick-up with no regard to the February temperatures. He waved as they approached. He shook hands with Maria, then offered it to Misty. “Major Thomas Shepherd, USMC, retired. Call me Thom.”

Misty shook his hand and smiled. “You’re the one related to Director Fury, aren’t you?”

He chuckled. “Are you going to interrogate me for embarrassing stories, too?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and then she laughed. “That had to be cuz. Clint.” Thom nodded, still grinning. “Well, if he didn’t get any out of you, I can’t think I’d have more luck.”

“It’s good to see you again,” Maria said to Thom. “Particularly as I know what’s in that Thermos.” At Misty’s raised eyebrow, she laughed. “Marine coffee, bunny. Nothing illegal.” Or likely to make her bunny nauseous, either.

Thom pointed to several duffel bags and locked handgun cases in the back of his truck. “I brought a little of everything,” he said with a grin. “And it’s a good thing we’re doing this on a school day, because I’d have damned near had to peel my kids off to get here without them otherwise.”

Misty slung a duffel bag over her shoulder and grinned. “Maybe we’ll have to do it again on a weekend. I don’t mind kids.”

“They’re good kids,” Maria agreed as she loaded herself up. “Your club, your lead,” she said to Thom, and nodded at the door.

He pulled open the heavy metal door and stepped in. Maria paused just over the threshold and smiled. Ranges, she thought, all smelled the same – smokeless powder, gun cleaning solvent, and some indefinable scent that brought back hours of drills and target practice.

“You keep sniffing the air like that, they’re gonna think you’re a bloodhound,” Thom teased, striding over to the desk where an older gentleman sat at a cash register – though his attention was fixed more on the copy of Rifle Magazine in his hand.

“Hey, Thom. How the hell are you? You and two guests today?” The man pushed his glasses up with one bent finger and peered at the cash register. He punched some keys, cursed a few times, and finally accepted the cash Thom held out. “Don’t forget to sign in.” He nodded at the hand-written log on a clipboard on the desk. “You need any supplies? I know you don’t, but I’m supposed to ask.”

“No supplies today, Dave,” Thom answered with a grin. “I brought enough to outfit half a battalion.”

“They know range rules?” The older man looked appraisingly at Misty and Maria.

Maria stepped up and offered her hand. “Agent Maria Hill, formerly of the US Marine Corps. This is Agent Misty Summers.”

He shook it. “Colonel David Pinney, US Army Airborne, retired. I’m guessing you can’t identify the agency you work for now?” He raised one grey eyebrow, and Maria shook her head. “But you’re staying at the Inn, and you come in with Thom – is it safe to assume you work with Phil Coulson?”

“Yes, sir.”

Misty elbowed Maria. “We’re not on duty, ducks.”

Pinney’s eyes twinkled at the nickname, but he didn’t mention it. “Not on duty, but can’t stay away from the range anyway. Let me know if any of you need help beyond what Thom can provide. I’m Range Officer for the afternoon.”

“Thanks, Dave,” Thom said as he straightened from signing them in. He gestured broadly towards the classroom space – battered and scarred eight-foot tables in a large open rectangle, surrounded by green plastic chairs. “Our headquarters for the afternoon.”

Maria laid her burdens down on one of the scratched surfaces and looked around, grinning. “Home sweet home.”

“Only you,” Misty said, rolling her eyes. She unholstered her service weapon, released the magazine and cleared the slide, laying it open on the table as she dug for extra magazines and ammunition in her bag. 

Thom grinned at her efficiency. “You may not have been a Marine, but you handle your Glock like one.”

Misty rolled her eyes again. “My second-in-command says the same damned thing. Seriously, gun handling isn’t limited to the armed forces.”

“What did you bring us to play with?” Maria asked, leaning over Misty’s shoulder to look into the duffel bags.

He spread out several different handguns – each unloaded, with either the cylinder open or the slide racked. Maria touched the walnut grips one with an almost reverent finger. They happily debated caliber and powder load as Thom laid out boxes of ammunition and magazines for the semi-automatics before he spread his hands over the bounty and grinned. “Have at it. Anybody trained by Phil knows range rules, so I won’t bore you with the formalities.”

“Thanks. I think I'm going to start with old reliable here," Misty patted her service weapon, "to get warmed up.” She packed magazines and ammunition into a bag and slid a pair of ear protectors and a pair of safety goggles on. She hand-signed to Maria that she was going out to the firing line, and picked up the bag in one hand and her empty Glock in the other.

Maria let her go, glad that there were large windows between the classroom and firing area. It didn’t really surprise her that Misty wanted time with her service weapon – Maria did too. She sat down where she could see Misty and unholstered her own weapon, clearing it as well and digging in a bag for her cleaning kit.

“So.” Thom sat down a few seats away from Maria. “How freaked out are you?”

She glared at him. “I’m not.” She spread out a folded newspaper and began to disassemble her weapon. The routine was soothing – as was the smell of Hoppe’s No. 9 cleaning solution.

“Uh-huh.” Thom was unconvinced. “So this little excursion is entirely for Misty’s benefit?” Maria’s glare sharpened, but she didn’t respond. “And the fact that you keep turning in your chair to keep her in your line of sight is just coincidence, right?” He plucked two Styrofoam cups from a stack on the table and poured coffee from his Thermos. 

She took the cup of sludge and stared down into it… until she had to look back up to reassure herself that Misty was still safe in the shooting range. It was that action – and the knowing look on Thom’s face when she did it – that made her slump her shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I’m a little freaked out.” She set the cup aside and returned to her cleaning – now just wanting to get it over with, so that she could take a brick of ammunition out on the range and do some therapeutic shooting.

Thom nodded and raised his coffee to his lips. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Kinda get the feeling I’m not getting an option,” Maria said drily. He chuckled. “I just don’t know how to keep her safe.”

“Looks like you’re headed in the right direction,” Thom said, nodding towards Misty out on the range.

Maria scowled. “If her own gun would protect her, she wouldn’t have been – hurt.” And that brought another question to Maria’s mind… Misty had arrived in Manitowoc with her ID, credit cards, badge, sidearm, and cell phone. Whoever had drugged her hadn’t stolen any of her belongings, and had thought himself in enough control not to confiscate her weapon. That was… unsettling.

“And you think you’re the difference between safe and unsafe?” Thom prompted.

“I don’t know if I can keep her safe either, but I’m sure as hell going to try.”

He was silent as she finished cleaning and reassembling her weapon. She put on ear and eye protectors, grabbed magazines and ammunition, and followed Misty out to the firing line.

Misty allowed herself to focus on the target at twenty-five yards, knowing that no one would get past her ducks – or the two retired military men – that shouldn’t. She settled into her favorite shooting stance and began working her way through the sixteen three-inch targets she’d sent downrange. She put three in each target, keeping a steady progression through them – feeling tension bleed away with each pull of the trigger. She’d been half afraid that she’d balk… that holding her weapon would feel different, somehow, now that she was a victim… and the possibility had pissed her off. Seeing the neat, orderly groupings appear on her targets relieved that fear.

Maria waited until Misty had finished her last target and tapped the target return before touching the blonde’s shoulder. She signed that they were alone on the range, prompting them both to slide their ear protectors down. 

“This is a nice place,” Misty said as she reached for her target. “Cuz would like it.”

“Clint likes anywhere he can fire a gun,” Maria agreed with a smile. She peered over Misty’s shoulder at the target. “Nice. Triple tap?” Misty nodded. “Oh, I so want to see the look on Thom’s face when he realizes you know how to use that gun on your hip.”

Misty shoved her gently. “Just for that, you should do the same. Come on, three each in sixteen – bet you can’t beat my score.”

Maria just smirked.

When her completed target was pulled from the hanger fifteen minutes later, Misty scowled. “If I hadn’t seen you put three in each one, I’d think you cheated.” She touched one bullseye, where the only indication that more than one round had penetrated was the slightly oblong shape of the entrance. “I can do three-quarter inch groups at this range, but if yours are over half an inch, it’s because the damn paper tore too far.”

Maria laughed and tugged her back into the classroom area. Thom had shared his coffee with Pinney, and they were both sitting behind the front desk with their feet propped up. “Alright, I’m warmed up now,” Misty announced, moving towards the array of weapons Thom had brought. “Now I want to play with a new toy.”

“How’d you do?” Thom asked, bringing his feet down off the table. Maria handed him both targets – hers and Misty’s – and then turned away so that he couldn’t see her smile. With the ease of long practice he scored the top target – Misty’s – and flipped to the second one. “Wait, I thought there were three rounds each,” he said, fingering one of the bullseyes.

“There are,” Maria agreed.

Pinney began to chuckle, reaching over Thom’s arm to snag Maria’s target. He scored it, writing a number in the upper right-hand corner and circling it. “Which one of you shot this?” Misty pointed to Maria. “Congratulations, Agent Hill. You just toppled Phil Coulson’s record.”

“Ohhhh,” Misty breathed. “Sensei’s going to be pissed.”

“How in the hell… are you sure?” Maria grabbed the target back from him, looking at the shots and doing her own scoring. “How old is the record?”

“Three, four years,” Pinney told her, reaching for a log book in one of the desk drawers. “Yes – four years. Almost five.”

Misty blew out a breath, fluttering her bangs. “He must have been here on leave, ducks. Wasn’t he injured a few years back? Came home to recoup?”

“Yeah.” Maria stared at her target. “Yeah, that would make sense.” She let out a breath. “Okay, I can handle beating him if he wasn’t at full strength.”

Thom crossed his arms. “Most people would think it’s a good thing, to break a shooting record.”

Misty laughed, embarrassed. “Yeah, well. How’d you feel if you outhopped the Easter Bunny? Outgifted Santa Claus? The only people I’m cool with outshooting sensei are cuz and nascha.”

“Translate for the Muggles,” Maria murmured.

“His husband and wife,” Misty dutifully repeated. “Clint holds the record for the whole damned agency, and Nat…”

“…is a force of Nature,” Maria added, when Misty trailed off.

Thom stood and clapped a friendly hand on her back. “Yeah, well, neither of them are here, so let’s see how many Coulson records you two can cross off the list while you’re here.”

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While there are a couple of shooting clubs in Manitowoc, the one you see in this chapter isn't there -- it's in Palmer, Alaska and is really called the Matanuska Valley Sportsmen's Range. I can't say all the details are still true-to-life, but were at one point... I lifted it out of pleasant childhood memories.


	20. Chapter 20

By the time they returned to the Rainbow Inn, Misty had tired fingers but a rested heart. They’d shot for hours, working their way through most of the ammunition and all of the pistols Thom had brought – and Misty had felt more at peace with each round. Maria looked better too, she realized – less pinched.

“You wanna join the horde in the kitchen?” Maria asked as they walked in the front door. 

Dinner preparations were underway, for the family and their guests. Misty balked at entering the noisy kitchen – it appeared the five new guests and the Turners were all sitting at the kitchen table as Diane and Alex cooked, and she didn’t really want to ruin her good mood with more strangers.

“Not really,” Misty said honestly. “I’m feeling all loose and relaxed, I don’t want to get worked up again.”

“You want me to see if Diane minds sending a tray up?”

A smile spread across Misty’s face. “That would be amazing.”

Maria waited until she’d seen Misty safely into their room before heading into the kitchen. She was glad Misty had opted for privacy – the press of people in the kitchen was enough to overwhelm her, too. Diane caught sight of her and gestured for her to come close enough to be heard. “Any chance we can have a quiet dinner for two upstairs?” she asked softly.

Diane nodded. “Not a problem, lovey. Maria. I’ll send the girls up with a tray.”

“Everything alright?” Alex asked from his position by the stove. The smells coming from the pan almost convinced Maria to stay downstairs for dinner.

“Just tired,” Maria assured him. “And not wanting…” she gestured at the new faces.

“Ah.” He nodded, reaching out to snag Maria and, to her shock, kiss her forehead. “Run on up, then. We’ll make sure you don’t go hungry.”

She was still puzzling over that physical display of affection when she pushed open the door to the Yellow Room. “Misty?” For the seconds it took Misty to answer, Maria’s heart began to race – because she couldn’t see her bunny.

“Deep breath, ducks. I’m in the bathtub.”

Right. No cause for alarm. Maria forced herself to take a deep breath and leaned back against the closed door. “Sorry.”

Misty’s voice was amused. “It’s okay, ducks. Dinner?”

“Diane will send the girls up with a tray. It smelled good, hopefully it lives up to the hype.” Maria slid down onto the floor, her back still pressed up against the door. 

“I’ve never known a Coulson to disappoint in the kitchen,” Misty laughed. She splashed some in the bath, and Maria had to force herself not to visualize it. “So, you’ve been here a week now. What’s your favorite part?”

Maria pondered that. “It’s a toss-up between Diane’s cooking and the twins. I think I understand better now, why Phil says they’re old souls.” She paused. “What about you?”

Misty was quiet long enough that Maria was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t have asked. “The twins are great, but they’re not my favorite part. I… like spending time with you.” Like waking up next to you, she added in her head – but didn’t say.

Well, damn. Maria felt what was becoming a familiar squeeze of her heart. “I like that, too.” She wasn’t sure she’d spoken loud enough for it to carry to Misty.

“I’m afraid that it’ll be different, when we’re back in DC,” Misty said, just as quietly. Maria wondered if she’d retreated to the bathtub purely so they could have this conversation without eye contact. “Afraid might not be a strong enough word for it, actually. I’m terrified, ducks. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

“You won’t have to,” Maria said immediately – and realized it was true. She’d put aside her own issues with showing affection in public or the judgement of others because it didn’t matter, really – not if it hurt her Misty. “I can’t promise it won’t be different, but I’m not going anywhere, bunny. You aren’t alone.” Never alone, Maria promised herself.

There was a sniffle from Misty’s direction. Maria abandoned propriety and crossed to the bathroom. By the time she pushed open the door, Misty was standing beside the bathtub wrapped in a towel with her hands over her face. “Sorry,” she said to Maria.

“No apology needed,” Maria assured her, pulling her close without regard to the droplets of water still standing on her skin. She snagged another towel and draped it over her shoulder before tucking the blonde head there, cradled in the crook of her neck. “But for the record, if you start crying in the locker room, I’m going to make sure you’re dressed before I do this.”

It made Misty laugh, but it also soothed the worst of her fears. Maria wouldn’t push her away at work. She might pause long enough to think, maybe to make a few token changes for appearances, but wouldn’t push her away. Misty wrapped her arms around Maria’s waist and pressed her cheek into the padded shoulder. “I can handle that.”

There was a timid knock on the suite door. “Must be the girls with dinner.” Maria released Misty. “I’ll get food – you get dressed.” She stepped back into the bedroom and pulled the door open.

“Room service,” Lily chirped, smiling at her. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you all wet?”

“I had to administer an emergency hug before Misty got dried off,” Maria told her, taking the tray. “You coming in?”

Lily peered around her into the room. “Maybe. Where’s Aunt Misty?”

“I’m here, Lily.” Misty stepped out of the bathroom – in her own ducky pajamas – toweling her hair dry.

The preteen sized her up, eyes slightly unfocused as she looked at something neither Misty nor Maria could see. “You look better.” She flashed a cheerful smile and the mini-adult slid back behind her mask. “I can stay for dinner if you want company. If you want to be alone, I’ll go back downstairs. Momma said either is okay with her.”

Misty raised an eyebrow at Maria, who shrugged one shoulder. “I’m cool with you staying,” Misty told the girl. “You’re easy company. Is Rose lurking in the hallway for an invitation, too?”

Rose poked her head around the doorframe. “How did you…?”

“I’m not your uncle’s protege for nothing,” Misty said with a grin. “Come on in.” She folded herself cross-legged onto the bed and looked at the girls and Maria expectantly.

Maria handed her the tray of food. “I’m going to change, too.” She grabbed pajamas and disappeared into the bathroom.

Lily sat down next to Misty on the bed. Rose sat next to her sister and tilted her head at Misty. “Lil’s right, you do look better.”

“Thanks, I think.” Misty handed each girl a plate – Diane had loaded four, which didn’t surprise her. “I think shooting helped.”

“Reminded you that you’re a badass federal agent?” Lily asked, lips twitching. Rose elbowed her.

Misty chuckled. “Yeah, kind of.”

Maria stepped out of the bathroom, now wearing a set of yellow teddy-bear pajamas. Misty smiled at her and handed her the plate Diane had sent up. Maria made herself comfortable next to Misty. “Thanks, bunny.” Rose and Lily traded looks that neither Misty nor Maria could interpret. “Roast beef and mashed taters… we were just talking about potatoes. I wonder if Diane’s are as good as Phil’s.”

“Better,” Misty said through a mouthful of them. “Oh man. I’m going to be lucky to get home without putting on fifteen pounds. How the hell are you two skinny, living with this cooking?” Misty blurted, looking at the twins. 

Lily giggled. “Because sometimes when there aren’t any guests, Mom cooks.”

“And nobody gains weight when Mom cooks,” Rose agreed ruefully. “Momma, sure. Mom… not so much. Grandma says she’s the only Coulson with no cooking skill. Well, until Lily came along.” She wrinkled her nose at her sister.

“Don’t feel bad, I’m not much of a cook either,” Misty said. “If it doesn’t come out of a can or a box, it’s even odds whether it’ll be edible when I’m done with it.”

“I do better over a campfire,” Maria mused. Misty looked surprised. “My dad liked to camp. My stepmom didn’t. Trips with Dad are some of my better childhood memories.”

Lily wrinkled her nose. “Uncle Thom took us camping last summer. Not my kind of fun.”

“Mine either,” Rose agreed. “Although I liked painting in the sunshine.”

“Heathens, both of you,” Maria teased. “Maybe we should plan a trip this summer.”

Misty tilted her head. Maria didn’t make plans – she definitely didn’t make vacation plans. Or at least… the Maria that had left DC didn’t. It looked like more was changing for her ducks than comfort with her sexuality. “That would be cool,” Misty agreed. “Whole clan, or just us?”

Maria shrugged. “Could be just us, but I was thinking of the whole clan. If we take the squad, we could make it into a field training exercise… Fury doesn’t need to know we picked up some blonde strays.” She leaned forward and tugged on one of Rose’s braids.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Lily asked, before Rose could retaliate for the hair pulling.

“Your Uncle Thom set us up on a tour of the submarine at the Maritime Museum in the morning,” Misty told her. “After that, I don’t know.”

“The zoo is on your list,” Maria offered. “And that alpaca farm.”

Lily’s eyes lit up. “Can we go with you?”

“To the zoo? Or the farm?” Misty asked.

“Both?” Lily smiled angelically at her. “We’ll be good!”

Maria and Misty exchanged glances, and Maria shrugged. “Up to you, bunny. I don’t mind either way.”

“How about zoo Saturday, farm Sunday? If you can get permission from your moms,” Misty offered. “And we’ll help with your homework tomorrow afternoon, so you can really be free.”

“Deal.” Lily beamed. “I want to pick up some new yarn at the alpaca farm – she spins her own, it’s so awesome.”

“Is that what you made cuz’s gloves out of?” Misty asked. “The purple ones?” Lily nodded. “Those are wicked cool. I never learned how to knit.”

“Grandma Viola taught us to knit, and Grandma Diane taught us to crochet,” Lily told her. “I can try and teach you – I’ve been helping Maddy learn to crochet.”

Misty beamed at her. “That would be really neat. Someday, I’d like to be able to make baby blankets.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Does your someday mean the same thing Auntie Nat’s someday means?”

“If you mean the triad having kids, yeah.” Maria shot Misty a strange look. “What, I’m not supposed to say it? It’s not like a birthday candle wish, speaking of it isn’t going to prevent it from happening.”

“I was thinking more like it wasn’t something to discuss with the girls,” Maria corrected mildly.

Lily waved that away. “It’s not like we didn’t know. Mother mentioned it, too.”

Maria swallowed a bite of roast. “Mother, like Great Mother?” Lily nodded. “You talk to the Goddess, too?”

“Mmmhmm.” Lily’s eyes slid sideways to her twin. “Not very often. She’s… kind of overwhelming.”

“Makes me feel like a bug under a microscope,” Rose grumbled.

Misty chuckled. “I feel like that in the ring with Natasha.” She began regaling the girls with tales from Scooby training, but didn’t miss the speculative look in Maria’s eyes as she considered the implications of both twins speaking to Gaia.

~ * ~


	21. Chapter 21

“I never would have pegged you for a museum buff,” Misty said, amused, as she watched Maria pore over the displays. They were still in the Maritime Museum proper – their guide for the submarine tour hadn’t arrived yet – and Maria was fascinated. She moved from plaque to plaque, soaking up the historical tidbits with as much avid interest as Misty had shown for cheese preparation yesterday.

“One of my better kept secrets,” Maria answered absently. “I have a membership at the Smithsonian, too. Used to go to a lot of talks and workshops.”

Misty trailed after her, never more than a few feet away. “Why don’t you now?”

Maria pulled her attention off the antique shipbuilding display and back to her bunny. “Hmm? Oh.” She shrugged, trying not to look embarrassed. “I’d rather spend time with the clan instead, usually,” she said – though it was really time with Misty that she chose.

A small smile told Maria that Misty had figured that much out. “You know, I bet you’re not the only one who would enjoy those workshops.” Misty slipped a hand around Maria’s waist. “You might even have more fun with company.”

“I just might,” Maria answered, her own smile forming.

She was forestalled from further answer by the entrance of a docent – a man about Alex’s age, wearing a polo from the museum and a nametag. “You must be Agents Hill and Summers,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand. “I’m Einar.”

Maria shook his hand, unobtrusively putting herself between him and Misty. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“If you’ll just follow me? There’s a few more of us for the tour.”

Maria took Misty’s hand and followed him through the maze of corridors outside, where the crossed onto the deck of the submarine. There were two couples waiting there, and a young boy of about ten. The tour through the various rooms of the submarine was fascinating, and Maria had to force herself not to lag behind as she examined the gauges, pictured what it would be like with a full crew complement. Tucked here and there in the nooks and crannies were authentic objects donated by veterans – a uniform, copies of typewritten operating procedures, naval china – even playing cards. 

She listened to the docent with one ear, and Misty’s chatter with the other, as her eyes drank in the history around her. The Cobia was a beautiful vessel – sleek and deadly, with such a wealth of experience in her that Maria fancied she could hear the call of gunners and skippers still echoing against her hull.

So fascinated was she by the vessel, she didn’t notice Misty’s growing discomfort.

Space on a submarine is always tight. Even with a small tour group of six adults, one child and one docent, it was a squeeze in places. Maria didn’t mind—she’d spent more time in less space before, and she knew Misty wasn’t claustrophobic.

It wasn’t the space – or lack thereof – that was distressing Misty. It was the people. The boy wasn’t a problem – he was as enthusiastically soaking up information as Maria, and more than once Misty had grinned fondly at him as he lit up over a tidbit of fact. His parents weren’t really a problem, either – their attention was mostly on their boy. The other two guests were a gay couple. The taller of them moved like he’d served on a ship himself, and he had the manners Misty had come to expect from an officer – he would pause at a doorway and incline his head, gesturing for the women to precede him. His partner appeared to be a civilian – and though he was polite, he crowded her.

Not intentionally, she thought. Just enough that her elbow would brush him, or she’d have to stop short not to run into him at a junction. By the third “room” of the submarine, her nerves were shot, and she was having to take deep, calming breaths. Frequently.

They weren’t enough.

“Ducks,” Misty whispered as they crossed into the galley. It was all she could manage to get out – she could barely breathe, and there were black spots forming at the edges of her vision.

Maria’s eyes latched on Misty’s and she swore – fluently, with all her eloquence as a former Marine. The boy’s parents looked scandalized, but the former military man sized up the situation quickly and held up his arm to prevent anyone else from approaching Misty. Maria flashed him a grateful look as she stepped up to Misty, putting one hand over her sternum and the other on her cheek. “You’re okay, bunny. Breathe with me.”

“Claustrophobic?” the docent asked.

“No,” Maria said shortly. “Damn it, bunny. I’m sorry. I should have thought – Goddess, I’m an idiot.”

Misty clutched at the hand Maria had on her chest and closed her eyes. “You’re not.”

“PTSD?” the soldier asked in a low voice.

“Yeah.” Maria drew Misty in closer, focusing her own breath and hoping that Misty could make hers match. “Can we get some privacy, please?”

The docent started to insist that no one be left alone on the ship, but the soldier glared at him. “Just don’t touch anything,” he muttered as he ushered the other visitors to another section of the ship.

Once alone, Misty collapsed into Maria’s arms and burrowed her face into the crook of her neck. She wanted to argue with Maria that it wasn’t PTSD – that she was fine – but the ten solid minutes it took before she was breathing steadily enough to speak proved the point. “I hate this.” With the words came tears – hot, impotent tears. “Nobody threatened me, there’s no reason for me to—”

“Panic attacks don’t have reasons, bunny,” Maria reminded her gently. She ran a calming hand up and down Misty’s back. “I’m an idiot, I shouldn’t have brought you down here when I saw there were other people on the tour.”

“None of them are a threat—”

Maria shushed her, swaying gently as she soothed the blonde. “Your brain knows that, bunny. That’s why you’re pissed. Your body just needs convincing.”

“I can’t keep doing this, ducks. I can’t… I can’t just fall apart all the time. What about SHIELD? What about my squad?” 

“You won’t fall apart with the squad,” Maria assured her – with a certainty she couldn’t explain. “They’re your kin, bunny. They’ll keep you safe. This is just because they’re strangers.” Though thank the Goddess that one of them was a military man, because she could hear him, just outside the door – keeping the docent and other visitors away. “Let me take some of the blame here, bunny. You asked me to take care of you, and I got distracted by shiny artifacts and wasn’t watching you for signs.”

Misty rubbed her cheek against Maria’s shoulder, her breath catching on the end of a sob. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I want to.” Maria stroked her hand down Misty’s hair. “I just haven’t taken care of anyone before. I’ve got some learning to do, and I’m gonna make mistakes. You gotta cut me some slack, bunny. This is uncharted waters for me.”

“You do okay,” Misty sniffled, and Maria was glad that her bunny couldn’t see her face – she was hiding a smile now, glad that her redirection had worked. The girl got more like Phil every day, Maria thought to herself. If Misty was concentrating on teaching a skill to Maria, she wouldn’t be ashamed that the skill was needed. 

It was another few minutes before Misty pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Okay. I guess I have to go face everybody, huh?”

Maria offered her hand, interlacing their fingers. “Not alone, you don’t.”

They stepped into the narrow passageway to find the former military man leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “You okay?” he asked Misty, eyeing her appraisingly.

“I’m getting there.” She offered him a small smile. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Agent Misty Summers of SHIELD.”

He straightened to a formal posture, and for a moment Maria thought he might salute. “Lieutenant Jeran Robison, US Air Force.”

“Agent Maria Hill, also of SHIELD,” Maria added, glancing sideways at Misty. They weren’t supposed to identify their agency to civilians – not unless it was official business. “Formerly of the US Marine Corps.”

“Ah.” He smiled. “Thought that was jarhead cursing.” He gestured to the passageway. “The docent and the rest went on ahead. I thought you might need a hand. My boyfriend’s a doctor, if you need a medic.”

Misty shook her head. “No. I haven’t had a – an attack bad enough yet to need a medic.” She looked down at her hand, clasped in Maria’s. “Just my ducks.”

“You call her that ‘cause she was a Marine?” Jeran asked as they walked down the passageway. Misty looked confused, but Maria started to laugh. “You know, both land and sea?”

“Ah, no.” Misty let out an embarrassed huff. “That’s clever, but no.”

“Not gonna tell me, huh?” He grinned. “Must be good.”

Maria thought of her ‘Just Ducky’ pajamas and chuckled. “Yeah, well. Girl’s got to have some secrets.”

They caught up with the others in the aft engine compartment. The docent didn’t pause in his recitation, but did a quick visual survey of Misty to be sure she was unharmed. She gave him a firm nod – refusing to allow her embarrassment to show. She stayed behind Maria, however, and didn’t miss the fact that Jeran placed himself between Maria and his boyfriend as well. 

Maria didn’t let herself get as absorbed in the tour this time, although she did pay close attention. She was fascinated by the aft torpedo room – picturing the racks full of armaments, with the lights blaring alarms and the levers and switches being operated by dashing men in uniform. (The ones in her head were a cross between the Howling Commandos on Phil’s trading card collection and the bridge staff of the Enterprise.)

Once the tour had returned to the deck, Misty approached one of the 3 inch deck guns and peered through its open sight. “Damn. This would be fun to shoot,” she said under her breath. Jeran, who was nearby, chuckled. She slid her eyes sideways and grinned. “What, like you wouldn’t take her out for a spin too?”

“Nah. I’m usually the one dodging. Pilot,” he added at her raised eyebrow. “I don’t do much shooting – I’ve got tac officers for that.”

Jeran’s boyfriend wandered over and approached the deck gun. Maria moved automatically to put herself between him and Misty, but the blonde waved her away. “Sorry,” he said, back-pedaling.

“It’s okay.” She smiled politely at him.

He looked back over his shoulder at Jeran, flicked a glance at Maria, then offered his hand to Misty. “Doctor Daniel Freewood.” Misty and Maria introduced themselves – though without naming SHIELD again – and he smiled. “Thought so. You’re the agents Mrs. Coulson mentioned, aren’t you?”

Misty tilted her head to one side. “Which Mrs. Coulson? Are you guys staying at the Rainbow Inn?”

“I meant Diane. Yeah.” Daniel’s smile was much warmer now, and he reached back to take Jeran’s hand. “Diane suggested the tour today, and I’m glad we came. My grandfather served on a sub like this in World War Two. It’s neat to get a chance to see something like it, you know? Never thought I’d set foot on a ship—” 

“Boat,” Maria and Jeran corrected.

“—like it.” He glared at Jeran, though his eyes were twinkling behind his glasses. “What makes him a boat and not a ship?”

“It just is,” Jeran answered firmly. “And she’s a she, by the by.”

Misty rolled her eyes dramatically. “Military brats,” she said in an undertone to Daniel – though she made no effort to hide it from Maria or Jeran. “Give them a fancy uniform, and they think they can trample all over the English language.”

“Oh, but I like the fancy uniform,” Daniel said with an easy grin. “He can mangle the language all he wants, if he puts on those dress blues.” He winked at Misty, who was startled into a laugh.

Jeran let them wander ahead as they walked back to the museum proper, hanging back just slightly to speak to Maria. “He doesn’t mean any harm,” he assured Maria. “To your girlfriend, I mean. He just doesn’t have much experience with soldiers or vets, doesn’t see many with combat experience. Doesn’t realize he pushes buttons, pulls triggers.” He’d intentionally pitched his voice for her ears only, and she was impressed with his vocal control when Misty gave no indication she’d heard him.

Maria debated whether to correct him on her relationship to Misty, but decided in the end that it didn’t matter. “Not exactly a combat experience,” she said carefully. She didn’t want to elaborate, but also didn’t want him to be looking for standard combat fatigue symptoms. “Not my place to be more specific.”

He nodded slowly. “I see.” He looked at Misty, laughing with Daniel over something he’d said. “We’ll do our best not to upset her further.”

“Thanks.” She offered him a small smile. “Even if it bites, having a flyboy watching out for her.”

Unoffended, he grinned. “I’ll watch out for anybody on Diane Coulson’s good books. Hot damn, but that woman can cook.”

“No shit. I thought Phil was good.” She shook her head, grinning. “Misty was joking last night that she doesn’t know how we’ll get home without putting on fifteen pounds. We don’t go home until Wednesday – between Diane and Alex, we’ll be lucky to limit it at fifteen.” 

Misty looked back over her shoulder and winked at Maria. “At least I’ll get to work mine off in the ring with the Scoobies when we get home… you’ll be stuck at your desk.”

“Bite your tongue, or I’ll tell Phil on you,” Maria warned, her eyes twinkling, “and he’ll decide to work those pounds off for you.”

“Better sensei than nascha,” she responded with a mock shudder.

“And they tease me about mangling the language?” Jeran asked his boyfriend. Daniel just laughed.

~ * ~


	22. Chapter 22

Misty found her eyes returning to Maria all throughout the remainder of their visit to the Maritime Museum, watching the senior agent absorb minutiae long past when Misty would have expected her interest to lag. She was puzzling over the conversation she’d overhead between Jeran and Maria – confused, but not upset.

Jeran had called her Maria’s girlfriend… and Maria hadn’t corrected him.

It was so difficult not to read too much into that, because Misty had a definite bias towards the way she wanted to interpret it. Maria could have let it go rather than explain their amorphous relationship – and Misty wasn’t even sure she could call it a relationship. It was more than friendship, but… did Maria see it that way? Or did she hear the best friends definition of ‘girlfriend’ when linked to Misty? She didn’t think that likely, but on the other hand a week ago she’d have sworn on a stack of field reports that Maria would never voluntarily be referred to as having a girlfriend.

Maria felt Misty’s eyes on her as she examined the Chief Wawatam Steam Engine display. Misty looked… worried, she decided. She flashed a quick smile of reassurance even as her eyes darted across the room in an instinctive tactical assessment. – and when that failed to ease the tight expression on her bunny’s face, Maria abandoned the steam engine and moved closer to her. “You alright?” Maria asked quietly, slipping an arm around Misty’s waist. “You’ve got the strangest look on your face.”

“Just thinking,” Misty assured her, but the odd expression remained. “I’m okay. Go learn about jazz age hand-fired, coal-burning vessels.” She waved vaguely at the display.

Maria grinned, and for a moment Misty got a glimpse of what she must have been like as a child – enthusiastic and bright. “You really are paying attention.” 

“I always am,” Misty agreed, tucking her hands in her pockets. She wandered behind Maria, not nearly as fascinated by the museum as her ducks, but not yet bored.

Jeran and Daniel had stayed near them, dawdling at the same rate Maria was. Misty suspected it was for her benefit rather than the thirst for knowledge that tugged at Maria. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. If it had been members of her clan, she’d have felt protected and cared for… but having strangers tasked with her safety was unexpectedly irritating. Did Diane not trust Maria to keep her safe? 

Or… and this seemed more likely to Misty, though it was the first time it had crossed her mind – had Sensei asked his mom to keep an eye on her? That seemed entirely reasonable – her chief was probably suffering both guilt that he hadn’t somehow prevented what had happened, and regret that he could not be with her now. Siccing his mom on her would at least have helped with the second part of that.

With Phil top most in her mind, it didn’t surprise her to feel her cell phone vibrate. She checked that there weren’t any other museum patrons nearby to be irritated by it – other than Jeran and Daniel – before answering the phone. “Hey, sensei. Are you getting a dose of mama mojo? I was just thinking of you.”

Phil chuckled. “I know it’s hard to believe, but there are such things as coincidences.”

“Mmmhmm. It’s so cute that you still believe that.”

He laughed again, this time the unabashedly amused sound she loved, and heard so rarely. “Alright, I’ll admit I felt a bit of a Chief pull. Everything alright?”

“Yep.” Misty caught Maria’s raised eyebrow and flashed the hand signal that represented Phil – a combination of the ASL sign for ‘necktie’ and the SHIELD field sign for ‘report.’ Maria nodded in comprehension and shifted her attention back to the museum. “Did you know that there was a ship sailing in the Straits of Mackinac until 1984 that was still powered by coal shoveled by hand?”

“I did indeed.” His tone was still amused. “I take it you are enjoying the Maritime Museum?”

“Ria is,” Misty said, her voice dry. “If we leave here with a single word unread, it will be because they hid the plaque.”

“Hey!” Maria protested without heat. “You spent two hours watching people make cheese yesterday.”

Misty chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Touche.” Her eyes fell on Jeran and Daniel again – they were attempting to look as though they were not listening to her end of the conversation. “We met some interesting gentlemen on the tour today.”

Phil was silent for a long moment. “I’m not going to apologize for wanting to keep you safe, grasshopper, but I’ll apologize for going around you to do so.”

“You made a suggestion to your mom?” She tried to keep accusation out of her tone, but from Maria’s wince she hadn’t been entirely successful.

“I mentioned it to Mom, yes,” Phil agreed reluctantly. “Lieutenant Robison is a good officer. His superiors write very complimentary things about him.”

Misty’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you know that before or after they got here?” It was the safest way she could think of to ask the question – had Phil already known Jeran, or had this information been sought out only when Phil knew he would be at the Inn with her?

“I ran him last night,” Phil admitted.

“Did everybody get that treatment?”

“You mean did I background check all of the Inn’s guests?” he asked. “Yes. Well, some of them I’d run before – I mean, my nieces live there.”

For some reason, knowing he’d done the same thing to protect his family made the knot of indignation loosen. It wasn’t that he thought her incapable – or Maria – it was part of how he cared for people. “How come you always let us think it’s nascha that’s the sneaky one?” she asked him, humor creeping into her tone. “I bet half the prying in the clan is at your instigation.”

He blew out a relieved breath that she wasn’t going to continue to chastise him. “To paraphrase my husband – I’m a SHIELD agent. Nosy is my profession.”

“That sounds like cuz, alright.” She found a convenient bench – apparently, she wasn’t the only one to explore the museum with a much-more-absorbed companion – and sank onto it, wincing a little as the rigid back hit one of her bruises. “How are things at home? How are my men? Nobody else has called.”

“Your men and women are fine,” Phil answered. “Lance, Angie, Clint, and I have been studying some data on a research project in the Mojave… Nat’s been drilling Sam and Chuck on undercover work. She tried to teach Chuck to sashay yesterday.”

“Please tell me there’s video,” Misty breathed.

“Oh, yeah.” Phil chuckled. “Word got around that she was doing a sashay lesson – by the end of it, the room was packed full of agents on and off duty. Chuck was informed he’d better work on a suitable strut rather than attempting to sashay. Sam nailed it, of course – to my shock, Al did too.”

Misty snickered. “I want to see Chuck’s strutting lessons. I bet he never gets one, and has to settle for a swagger. How’d CJ do? And Raj? Or were they elsewhere?”

“All the fledglings tried it – and yes, there’s video of that too. For the clan only, I’m informed. You want me to email it to you?”

“I’d love that. I miss them,” Misty admitted. “Did you sashay, sensei?” She let mischief creep into her voice.

He chuckled, low in his throat. “I did. So did Clint.”

Misty’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sam said Clint wasn’t allowed to sashay.”

“He’s not allowed to teach it,” Phil corrected. There was a note in his voice that – if he weren’t her chief – Misty would have identified as lust. “Teaching it requires demonstrating, observing, and hands-on corrections. The last time we let him, there was a damned brawl.”

Maria had wandered over when Misty mentioned strutting lessons, and she was close enough to hear Phil’s last comment. She laughed, startling Jeran and Daniel. “Sashay lessons for the Scoobies?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Misty. The blonde nodded. “How’d they rate?”

“In order of most hopeless case to most likely to seduce – Chuck, Raj, Angie, Lance, Al, Sam, and surprisingly, CJ.”

“Figures. He’s the only one that doesn’t care if it works.” Misty wrinkled her nose. “So now that the fun part is done… who’s going on to more honeytrap training? Because I’ll fight you, if you suggest CJ.”

“Easy, bunny,” Maria murmured as she slid her arm around Misty’s waist.

“I gave CJ the choice, and he turned me down,” Phil answered calmly. Maria could hear the tension creeping into his voice, but she wasn’t sure if Misty did. “Sam will take it with Al. Lance and Angie are thinking about it – their skills mean it’s less likely they’d need to use seduction in the field, but the opportunity is there, if they so choose.”

Misty waited a beat before asking, “And me?” Maria’s arm tightened around her, but the senior agent didn’t interrupt.

“Agent Coulson will offer it to you.” Misty had to strain to hear him, so softly did he answer. “Your sensei thinks it would be good training. Your chief would prefer you wouldn’t take it.”

“So does your ducks,” Maria whispered. The notion of Misty learning how to leverage her sexuality on ops was abhorrent to Maria, even though she knew full well that it was a valuable tool in a field agent’s repertoire. She didn’t know when that had become the case – when the idea of someone else admiring Misty had become uncomfortable – but she didn’t think it was new.

Misty met Maria’s eyes. “There will be questions, if I don’t. You know that.” Though her phone was still held up to her ear, it wasn’t Phil she was speaking to. “Half the agency thinks that what I was hired to do – the other half thinks that’s how I made squad leader.” Maria growled. “Cut it out, ducks. You know it as well as I do.”

“What do you want, Misty?” Phil asked. “If you want the training – I’ll shove my chief instincts into a shoebox. But if you don’t… we’ll find a way, grasshopper.”

“Taking the training doesn’t mean I have to use it, right?” Misty asked. “And taking it with Al and Sam would be safe.” That was true enough, but there would be at least one instructing agent and probably agents from other teams in the training as well – and the notion of having to be flirty with anyone made her skin crawl. Hell, the barest brush against her arm by an uninterested gay man had sent her into a panic attack today – how could she face intentionally provocative contact by someone who might actually be interested?

Maria felt her shiver and pulled her closer, pulling at Misty’s head until it was cradled in her shoulder. She didn’t speak again – didn’t want to find herself begging Misty to pass on the training. She had no right to ask that of her bunny, no matter how uncomfortable it made her.

“If you want the training, I’ll make it happen,” Phil said in a neutral tone. “But…” his composure faltered, “you have to want it, grasshopper. Please don’t take it because you think you have to, or that I expect you to, or—”

“I don’t want to,” Misty interrupted. “I would have, before… I don’t now.” She closed her eyes, pressing her cheek into Maria’s neck. “But I do want to make those choices myself.”

“Whatever you need, bunny,” Maria murmured into Misty’s hair. But Goddess, she hoped Misty continued to need her – because she didn’t know what she’d do if Misty pushed her away now.

“I’ll second that.” Phil’s voice was tight, almost gruff. If she hadn’t known him well, Misty would have thought he was angry – but she knew that he, like she, was fighting tears. “I can’t promise I won’t kneejerk react to protect you again, grasshopper. And before you get upset by that… I do the same damned thing to Catriona and my spouses.” There was a rustle and Misty guessed he was rubbing his forehead – maybe pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was protective of my people even before this Chief thing.”

Misty sniffed, pulled away from Maria and scrubbed her hand over her face. “I know.” She shook her head to clear it. “I’ll be okay, sensei. I appreciate you wanting to protect me.” And if she was really honest with herself, it made her feel loved. “But right now, I’m on a museum tour with my ducks, and then we’re going to go back to the Inn and help the flower girls with their homework so that we can steal them to go to the zoo and the alpaca farm this weekend.” She didn’t have to fake her enthusiasm for those activities… much. “So I’m going to hang up the phone, and read about steamships and schooners and clipperships – and you’re going to call your husband or your wife so that you don’t sit there at your desk rubbing your head pretending you don’t have a headache from pretending not to worry. Capiche?”

He chuckled reluctantly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Goddess, don’t call me that. That’s just… wrong.”

When they’d said their final goodbyes and Misty tucked her cell phone back into her pocket, she had to push against the awkward feeling that two strangers – Jeran and Daniel – had overheard her end of the conversation. She never minded it, with ducks… but she barely knew the two men. She looked around the gallery to locate them, and finally spotted them leaning over a ship diorama.

As she approached them, towing Maria behind her by the hand, she realized they were both wearing headphones and peering at the meticulously crafted model ship in front of them. Jeran caught sight of her first and pulled the earbuds out of his ears with a casual tug. “Did you see this? It’s a replica of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”

Maria moved closer to look down at it, impressed. “Not just the ship, but the wreck of.”

“Hence the headphones. I’d barely read the name on it when I got that damned song stuck in my head.” Jeran tilted his phone towards them, so they could see the Gordon Lightfoot album cover. “Sometimes when I get an earworm, it’s easier to bow to the inevitable and listen to the damned song.”

Misty met his eyes, and he didn’t look away – just half-smiled. “Right,” she said, hoping he could hear the gratitude. She didn’t think it was coincidence that he happened to find a reason to have headphones on while she was on the phone with Phil. 

Her gratitude even outweighed her irritation at getting that damned song stuck in her head, too.

~ * ~


	23. Chapter 23

Misty was still humming the musical elegy while sitting on the floor in the twins’ room, leaning over a text book later that afternoon. “I don’t know why I thought you’d actually need help with your homework.”

Lily grinned at her. She was lying on her stomach on the floor, filling out a math worksheet. “I’m not so hot at science, but we didn’t have any science homework over the weekend.”

“And I’m not so great at English, but it was just a reading assignment,” Rose offered from her place on the bed – she’d already finished her math and was now flipping through an old National Geographic. “We’re always ahead on the reading.”

“I liked English,” Maria said. She was sitting next to Misty, leaning over her to examine the text book. “And history.”

“That part doesn’t surprise me,” Misty said drily. The Wisconsin Maritime Museum’s website recommended planning three or four hours to fully explore the museum – Maria had spent all six of the museum’s open hours poring over the artifacts. By four o’clock, Misty knew more about the long-decommissioned watercraft of the museum than of any craft currently in service… including SHIELD’s helicarrier.

“Don’t feel bad,” Lily said absently to Maria. “Uncle Phil’s a nerd, too. I mean, his is usually about Captain America… or Star Trek… but totally a nerd.”

Maria chuckled. “I don’t think my desire for knowledge is on par with Phil’s Cap obsession.”

“Only because your area of interest is broader,” Misty teased. She slid her arm around Maria and rested her head on the senior agent’s shoulder. “You forget, I’ve seen how many biographies and documentaries you’ve got on your book and movie shelves.”

Rose snickered. “Busted.”

“You’re reading a Nat Geo, Rose, I don’t think you should point fingers.” Misty rolled her eyes up at the girl. “You’re as bad as Ria.”

Rose opened her mouth to retort, but Lily made a noise somewhere between a tut and a cluck, and Rose desisted. Misty looked between the girls. “Did I miss something?”

“I’m saving you from a rant,” Lily said calmly. She didn’t look up from her homework.

Maria crossed her arms – careful not to dislodge Misty’s head on her shoulder. “Alright, spill.” She said it in the same tone she used with misbehaving SHIELD agents, and was relieved that it seemed to work on preteen girls as well.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Lily muttered.

“I’m tired of people acting like being smart is a bad thing!” The words spilled out of Rose almost involuntarily. She closed the magazine and shoved it off the side of the bed. “I’m tired of people being surprised that we’re smart or that we like to read or that I’m good at math! I’m tired of it!”

“Is this about wanting to be treated like you’re normal?” Misty asked quietly. She didn’t seem upset at the outburst, but there were shadows in her eyes when she spoke.

“I don’t think that’s too much to ask,” Rose said, and the bitter tone to her voice surprised Maria. “Do you have any idea how hard it is not to stand out all the time? To try and shove it all away and just be ordinary?”

Misty stood up and moved to sit next to Rose on the bed. She put an arm around the blonde’s shoulders. “Yes.”

Lily looked up when she moved, her eyes narrowing. “Aunt Misty…”

“I’m okay, Lily.” Misty gave her a small smile, but it didn’t extend to her eyes. “Just remembering what it felt like to be too smart to be cool. I figured out how to hide it by the time I got to high school, but… yeah, I know the feeling, Rose.”

Rose leaned into her arm. “It’s a stupid thing to be mad about.” Impotent tears filled her eyes. “It’s just not fair.”

“It really isn’t,” Maria agreed. She rose too, sitting on Rose’s other side. A glance at Lily invited her to join them on the bed. Lily curled up in front of her twin and Misty. “I’m the highest-ranking woman in SHIELD, remember? I know exactly what it’s like to be better at stuff, and people not wanting to be my friend because of it.”

“Yeah, but you’re a super secret special agent,” Rose whispered. “I’m just a girl.”

Maria touched Rose’s chin, turning it to make eye contact with the girl. “I was your age once, too. I didn’t fit in then.” Didn’t fit in now, either, she thought – but there was no sense in scaring the girl. “The people who don’t like me for being smart or fast or good at sports or whatever… they aren’t the kind of people I want as friends, anyway. Those came later, as I got older.”

“If your classmates are too immature to accept you for who you are, maybe you can make friends with your teachers,” Misty suggested. Maria’s eyes shot to hers – shocked, maybe a little desperate. The eye contact made Misty flinch.

Lily reached a hand out to Misty and touched her knee. “Why does that make you sad? And ashamed?” She didn’t like seeing the color of shame on anyone, but with her ‘aunt’ being so fragile already… 

“Smart girls can make some really stupid choices.” Misty covered Lily’s hand with her own. “I don’t – I can’t talk about it, Lily-lass. I just… can’t.” She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. The whole messy affair with False Phil (and somehow, Clint’s nickname for her ex made it just a little easier to think of him) had started with Misty seeking out people who treated her like an equal – he’d been her philosophy professor, and had never looked down upon her for her youth or inexperience. Having her voice heard, her opinions valued – that was heady stuff, to a college freshman… Goddess, she’d been so stupid.

She hadn’t been thinking of False Phil when she’d suggested making friends with her teachers to Rose – after all, she’d been nineteen when that whole mess started, and Rose was only twelve. But she could understand why Maria’s mind had jumped there. Nausea built, imagining what Maria must think of her—that she could suggest a path for the twins that paralleled the one that had led to her own spectacular fuck up. 

Rose tilted her head to one side and regarded Misty through narrowed eyes. She’d grown accustomed to the cracks in Misty’s shields… and was hoping to see some of them heal… but that last comment had brought an older, much deeper fissure to light. Rose thought it was broken from the inside as well as the outside – and it felt like it was scarred, maybe burned out. It wasn’t the worst damage she’d seen yet… but it was close. “You don’t have to talk about it, whatever it is.” She scooted closer to Misty – partly because she wanted to, but partly because she could feel Maria vibrating with the need to be closer, and she could make herself small between them.

Maria scooted until she could reach Misty, tugging until she had Rose on her lap and Misty against her side. Lily curled closer into Misty as well. “I vote we change the subject,” the senior agent suggested, pressing her cheek into Misty’s hair. Her voice was strained, her tone artificially calm. “Tell me about the zoo we’re going to in the morning, Rose… what’s your favorite animal there?”

Misty let the conversation move on, and even participated… but there was a knot in her chest she couldn’t shake.

~ * ~

They were tucked into bed, both clad in pajamas, with the lights off before Maria broached the subject again. The dark hid her face – she hoped it would be enough. “I couldn’t tell, from your reaction, if you thought I’d… I don’t know, you looked like I was a hair away from accusing you of telling the girls to seduce a teacher. That wasn’t… that wasn’t why I reacted the way I did.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” She never did – but discussing False Phil when she was wrapped up in Maria’s arms felt… wrong. Like she was at risk of infecting her current happiness with memories of that terrible mistake. She already felt sick over what she’d said… she didn’t think she could stand much more of it without needing a drink. A drink, she realized as the nausea stirred, that her current trauma would prevent her from taking – damn it all.

Though she hadn’t mentioned her ex, Maria knew that’s where Misty’s mind had jumped – and made her need to explain more urgent. “This isn’t about him,” Maria pressed. It was rare for her to push an issue, and that made Misty reluctantly nod. Maria pulled her closer, rubbing her check in Misty’s hair. “It wasn’t the teacher thing that made me… jumpy. It was the immature thing. And it wasn’t about you – or the girls, really. It was about me.”

“Okay.” Misty waited, forcing herself to relax against Maria.

“I remember being twelve… I mean, it was longer ago for me than it was for you,” she said, letting a teasing note creep into her voice. Misty was only six years younger than her – but Maria was only two months from her thirtieth birthday, and that made the age gap feel a hell of a lot broader. “I felt like I was going to come out of my skin half the time. It only got worse, those next few years… as I matured. Puberty,” she added when Misty didn’t seem to understand. “It was hellish for me, with Dad and my stepmom and… yeah.” She shook her head. “I didn’t have the kind of family support the flowers girls do… but I didn’t have a Gaia gift mucking with my head, either. Rose’s little outburst… and yeah, I consider that little, because at her age I’d have thrown things and stomped my feet… it makes me wonder how much worse it’s going to be for them.”

“And that’s why you glared at me?”

Maria let out a noise that she’d swear wasn’t a whimper. If pressed, she’d maybe have admitted to a whine. “I didn’t mean to glare, bunny. It was just… it hit me, really hard. Sitting there, thinking about the crap I went through…” She was quiet a moment. “I was about their age when I figured out I liked girls.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell went live about then, and it was all over the bases…” Maria’s voice trailed off. “Dad was a Major, then – and he had opinions. Loud opinions. You know, the first time I heard a word to describe how I felt – it wasn’t gay or lesbian,” she said bitterly. “I listened to my father rant about – no, I won’t repeat them.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t mean to… this isn’t what I wanted to tell you.”

Misty turned her face into Maria’s neck, rubbed her cheek on the cotton of her t-shirt. She wished she dared press a kiss to the soft skin beneath Maria’s ear, but her courage failed her. Instead, she managed to whisper, “You can tell me anything, ducks.”

“I know.” Maria’s arm tightened, and she struggled not to hold Misty too close – too dearly. “And I will…. Sometime… but that’s not what I need to say tonight.” She forced herself to loosen her grip, changed instead to stroking Misty’s hair. “I got scared. Thinking of the girls, thinking about what I was like at that age, and all the crap that was just starting for me… I got scared.” She took a deep breath, blew it out. “And when I got scared, I needed you. That’s all. I just… needed you. And I didn’t mean it to seem like I was upset at what you said about teachers, because it isn’t a bad idea – I made friends with my history teacher in middle school, and it was a life saver. I wasn’t even really… I don’t even know if I heard it, really, in the moment.” Her voice dropped until it was barely above a whisper, and she tilted her head until her lips were brushing against Misty’s hair as she spoke. “I freaked out, bunny. I’m sorry that I freaked you out, too.”

It was quiet, in the dark of their bedroom, for several long minutes before Misty could answer. She sniffled and swiped in irritation at her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m fucked up enough that I didn’t see that you needed me.” Maria’s arm tightened, and Misty shook her head against Maria’s shoulder. “No, that’s not everything. It’s kind of… I don’t want to say nice, but it makes me feel less pathetic that you had a freak out, too.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Maria protested.

Misty felt a reluctant smile tug at her lips. “I’m glad you feel that way, ducks.” She drew idle circles on the comforter with the hand that wasn’t tucked between her body and Maria’s. “I’m still sorry, though, that I didn’t see your need. I… want you to be able to lean on me, you know, when you freak out? Like I lean on you.”

“That’s what I’m doing now, bunny. Except I’m not leaning, I’m clinging.” Maria let the hand she was running over Misty’s hair settle at the back of her neck, holding her close. “I have to make sure you get it, that I need you as much as you need me, okay? And I’m really terrible at needing someone,” Maria admitted softly. “I haven’t, really, since I was a kid.” Needing wasn’t the right word – the right word was one she wasn’t willing to use yet – but it worked in a pinch. “I’m probably going to be terrible at it for a while.”

“You’re not terrible. You’re wonderful.” The words were out before Misty could censor herself. She could only be grateful she’d managed not to blurt out more. “It’s been a long time since I… needed… someone, either. Or been needed. We can stumble together.”

“Fair deal.” Maria brushed her lips against Misty’s hair and held her close as they drifted to sleep.

~ * ~


	24. Chapter 24

“When I said, let’s be there when the zoo opens,” Misty said over her morning cup of tea, “I didn’t know they opened at seven in the morning.”

Diane chuckled and added another sausage patty to Misty’s plate. “Eat up, you’ll need your strength.”

Misty eyed the plateful – it felt like every time she emptied some space, Diane refilled it. “You and sensei both do that,” she said, tackling the new patty with her fork. 

“Do what, lovey?”

“The never-emptying plate trick. Pushing food until we’re fit to burst.” Misty smiled around a bite of sausage. “I should send CJ and Angie to you,” she mused. “They could use fattening up.”

Maria entered the dining room in time to hear Misty’s comment, and shook her head. “Angie would be uncomfortable about it, bunny – she doesn’t even like it when Phil does it.” She slid into a chair next to Misty where Diane had laid out a plate for her. “CJ might be a good idea though. He’s about as gangly as a newborn colt,” Maria added with a grin. “All legs.”

Diane was still chuckling as she left the room, intent on her morning chores.

“Speaking of legs…” Misty pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Sensei sent me the video from their sashay lessons. Wanna watch?”

Maria leaned against her arm. “Sure.”

Misty propped the phone against the jug of maple syrup and pressed play.

The camera work wasn’t fabulous, and it jumped around a bit as it was passed from one Scooby to another, but captured all their attempts. Maria nearly choked on a bite of eggs when Clint demonstrated.

“Damn, I thought Phil banned that,” she murmured. “Tell me the gym was empty. I do not want to deal with another rash of inappropriate conduct complaints.”

“Just the clan,” Misty assured her. “Sensei’s email said they kept it private until it was just Sam and Al drilling with him and Nat – the Scoobies threatened mutiny if they all had to do it for public consumption.” She gestured with an egg-laden fork. “At some point, I want to hear about this mythical event that caused administrative SNAFUs and got Clint banned from teaching.”

“You really don’t.”

Natasha went next, and despite not being her type and really not being available, the redhead’s movements made Misty feel a little overheated. “Jesus, how does sensei stand aside when she does that?” she blurted.

“Years of practice. Look at Chuck’s face!” Maria snorted. “I can’t decide if he looks more like he’s seen the face of God, or of the devil.”

The various Scoobies’ attempts were interesting – and Misty was damned impressed at CJ. Not only did he sashay in a near-perfect imitation of Clint… when he pivoted at the end of the walk and returned to the team, he did so with an entirely different motion that looked identical to Natasha’s. “I didn’t know he could mimic body language like that,” Misty murmured. “That’s damned handy.”

“I thought Phil said he – oh, there he goes.” On screen, Phil removed his tie and jacket, rolling up his sleeves as he explained some of the different strides he used, and under what circumstances.

Clint walked to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and looking back at his husband. Phil smirked at him before strolling towards him.

“Holy crap,” Misty breathed. Just from the back, Phil’s movements were sinful, and when he turned to move back towards the camera – and Natasha – it was even more pronounced.

Maria flashed her an amused grin. “I know. I don’t even like men, and I get a tingle at that. It’s not so much the walk as it is the look in his eyes. He’s gotten even better at it, the last few years,” she mused, watching him repeat the path but with a different type of walk. “I like that one. Phil calls it his Right Said Fred.” At Misty’s blank expression, she added, “You know – I’m too sexy for my shirt? The song?”

“Right.” Misty shook her head to clear it. “You know, it’s easy to forget that he has field agent skills, since he spends so much time at his desk.”

“He’s a damned fine field agent.” Maria pushed her plate away with a sigh. “He just happens to be more valuable at his desk. I was good in combat, but not at going under, running a persona. Phil – and Clint, and Natasha – they go under, they aren’t just playing a role. We set Nat up as a French prima donna ballerina once – when somebody left the coffee pot empty in her studio, she swore in French, even though she was alone.”

When the video ended, Misty tucked her phone back in her pocket, looking pensive. “Do you sashay?”

“Hell, no,” Maria said immediately. “I don’t have the grace. I can manage a decent saunter or strut – I usually wind up striding instead.”

Before Misty could reply, the twins entered the kitchen. “You ready yet?” Rose asked, dropping dramatically into the chair across from Misty. “We’ve been waiting.”

“It’s not even six-thirty,” Maria protested mildly. “On a Saturday.”

“Mmmhmm.” Lily snatched a bite of sausage off Misty’s plate. “I’ve been up an hour already. It was my turn to help with brunch prep.”

At the mention of the weekly influx of guests, Maria paled. “I’d forgotten about that. Come on, bunny. We really don’t want to be here when the horde arrives.” She explained the phenomenon as they put on shoes and coats, and buckled themselves into the SUV. 

Misty blanched as well when Maria described the gathering. “You’re right. Better to be out of the house. I’m not ready for that.”

“Will you be okay at the zoo, Aunt Misty?” Lily asked from her seat behind them in the SUV.

“I hope so.” Misty turned in her seat to smile at the girl. “You could do me a favor, though – I’m not very good at saying something, when I start to freak out. If you see my colors or whatever start to look like that, would you tell me? Or Maria, if you don’t want to tell me?”

Lily nodded. “Sure.”

“I wonder if I can tell.” Rose pursed her lips in thought. “Is it going to make you feel weird if I watch too, Aunt Misty? I want to see if I can help.”

“That should be okay,” Misty agreed. “And I really do appreciate it, girls.”

“Me, too,” Maria added.

~ * ~

Maria understood better why the girls wanted to be at the zoo so early when they arrived. They were some of the only visitors at the moment, which helped Misty relax… and the animals were getting their breakfasts.

The girls – looking impish – had each seized a hand and towed the adults behind them until they reached the duck pond.

Misty burst out laughing when she realized what they were standing in front of, and she hugged the girls around the shoulders, one on either side of her. “Look, ducks,” Misty said over her shoulder to Maria, “Ducks.” Her grin was infectious, and Maria couldn’t help but return it. When Misty turned back to watch the fowl, Maria mouthed ‘thank you’ at Lily. The girls returned identical satisfied smirks.

Exploring the zoo was fun, and doing it with two bright-eyed girls made it seem fresh and wondrous. Maria hadn’t spent a lot of time with children in the past to know whether it was true of all kids, but time with the girls seemed to let her put away adulthood for a few hours, and focus instead on the magical parts of life.

Granted, that feeling could be in part – or even entirely – due to the fact that she had Misty’s fingers laced through hers. 

Feeding time for the various animals meant that there were zookeepers everywhere – athletic looking young people dressed in khakis, hauling five-gallon buckets as though they were weightless. Misty watched one of them pass on his way to the Asiatic black bear exhibit. “We ought to recruit more farm-grown kids,” Misty remarked to Maria as he passed. He had a bucket in each hand, filled to overflowing with fruits and vegetables – and a rucksack on his back that appeared to weigh about as much as one of the twins.

“You’re generalizing,” Maria said with a grin, “to think he must be farm-grown. And… we already do. Chuck – and hell, Clint – both come from agrarian backgrounds.”

“Still. Imagine how much faster we’d get through the obstacle course if we had a recruit just pick up Lancelot and haul him with us.” Misty shook her head in fond exasperation. “I know it’s his brain that’s critical to the squad and all, but I wish he’d spend a little more time on the physical training.”

“Have you asked him?” Rose tugged at Misty’s hand as they strolled along the path towards the snow leopard. “Lance, I mean. To work more on the physical stuff. Maybe he doesn’t know you want him for more than his brain?”

Misty’s eyebrows drew together as she pondered that. “I don’t know that I have.”

“You’re also doing the same thing for him that you did for yourself,” Maria said quietly. “Lance may not be top ranked in the squad, but if you compare him to agents outside the clan… bunny, he’s lethal. The eight of you don’t seem to realize how exceptional you really are.” She shook her head. “Part of that is because we – meaning SHIELD – aren’t encouraging you to. But seriously – you should run your stats against FLETC.”

Lily tugged in turn at Maria’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. School for federal agents – CIA, FBI, NCIS, ICE, NSA – basically, the whole alphabet soup. If your badge says ‘US’ on it, chances are you’ve put in time at FLETC.” She raised an eyebrow at Misty.

“I’ll ask Angie to do some statistical analysis, okay?” 

“Good. Because you should know just how high you’ve set the bar for yourselves, and cut Lance some slack.”

“I still think you should talk to him,” Rose insisted. They found seats on a bench in front of the snow leopard enclosure, watching the yawning feline stretch in the morning light. “He can’t really meet expectations if he doesn’t know what they are.”

Lily abandoned the serious discussion to lean towards the enclosure. “Can we admire Michu for now, and not be all grown up? He’s my favorite.”

“Sure.” Maria released her hand to ruffle the blonde hair, then pulled the girl into a hug. “Are you going to regale us with fun facts?”

“Wanna play Did You Know?” Rose suggested to her sister. Both adult women looked confused. “Family trivia game. I think Papa Alex came up with it.”

Misty slung her arm around Rose’s shoulders. “Tell me more. I love games. And trivia.”

“So, I tell you a fact like… umm… did you know that snow leopards can jump like fifty feet?”

“Cool.” Misty smiled. “I did not.”

“So, then it’s your turn. You find a fact that connects to mine like… something else about snow leopards, or jumping, or… I don’t know.” Rose tilted her head. “And if you can’t come up with anything, then I get a point. Sometimes we score just based on facts when we play with the cousins… we don’t make them connect ‘em.”

Lily grinned. “Having to connect them is more fun. Like… did you know that snow leopard cubs stay with their mommas for two whole years?”

Misty returned her grin. “I didn’t know that either.”

The four of them traded facts – primarily about the animals that they saw, but now and again another crept in – as they strolled along the zoo paths. It wasn’t the largest zoo Maria had been to, but it was pleasant. As the day wore on, more visitors arrived. The twins waved at people they recognized, but they weren’t approached.

“Are you guys sending out some voodoo ‘don’t bother us’ vibe?” Misty asked finally, when another kid was waved at but turned away. “You don’t have to. I mean, if you want to talk to them…”

Rose’s hand tightened in Misty’s. “Just our natural charm.” 

Maria gave her an odd look, but didn’t press. She knew what it was like to be a social outcast – and pressing the girl about it wouldn’t help. Besides, she was somewhat grateful that they hadn’t been swarmed with kids and their families… her bunny was looking a little strained just from the casual passersby. A clutch of excited preteens might send her running for the hills.

They were admiring the bald eagle Liberty when Misty’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket with a sigh and looked at the display. “Hey, Lance.”

About damned time, Maria thought to herself – CJ was the only other Scooby to have called. She seated herself next to Misty on a bench and slid her arm around the blonde’s waist.

“Hey, Buffy. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to call before now.” His tone was apologetic, but not excessively so. “My respect for you grows in leaps and bounds the longer you’re gone… how the hell do you keep up with all the paperwork, and the extracurricular activities?”

Misty chuckled. “Practice. I take it you don’t find balancing squad leader and team mom to be that easy?”

“If I had your job full-time, I’d shoot something,” he said fervently. “I’ve already put in extra hours in the range this week. Hell, all of us have. It’s a good thing our ammo requisitions go through our chief, or there’d be some eyebrows raised.”

“I blew through a quite a few rounds yesterday myself.”

Lance blew out a breath. “I can imagine.” He paused, and there was a scratching sound she associated with him rubbing the back of his head. “About that.”

Misty rolled her eyes. “Smooth, Lancelot.”

“Sorry. Phil’s the one with all the tact around here, and even he’s wearing a little thin.” Lance sighed. “I’ll just be blunt. I’m calling for your witness statement.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve got statements from the other patrons at Mad Myrna’s, and the bartender – found the cabbie that drove you from the motel to the bus station, and got his statement, too… but I don’t have yours. I know you don’t remember much,” he added when she didn’t answer. “But I’m looking for little things, you know?”

Misty was flummoxed. She’d thought that the silence from the Scoobies meant they weren’t ready to talk to her – weren’t ready to deal with what had happened to her. Patently that was not the case, at least for Lance. There was no way he’d have gathered all that information alone… or easily.

Her Scoobies hadn’t abandoned her.

Lily’s eyes widened as Misty’s aura flared, and she shot Maria an urgent look. Rose seconded it with a sharp intake of breath.

“Bunny?” Maria tightened her arm around Misty’s waist. “What is it?”

She had to swallow against a tight throat before she could answer. “I haven’t given a formal statement yet, Lance.”

“What? Why?” He sounded horrified. “Maria’s had you since Tuesday, and she hasn’t taken a damned statement? Is she there?”

In answer, Misty handed the phone to Maria. “Lance? What’s going on?”

“Why the hell haven’t you taken her statement? How are we supposed to investigate her assault without a statement?”

Maria blinked. “I was more concerned with her state of mind, Agent Mackey.”

“Don’t Agent me,” he growled. “Damn it, Maria. It’s bad enough we’re having to investigate off hours and completely under the table – ”

“You’re investigating?”

“What the hell kind of question is that? Of course we’re investigating.” There was a thud on his end – either he’d kicked a desk, or dropped a book. “Did you think we were just going to drop it?”

Maria weighed her desire to be truthful against upsetting her bunny, and decided in this case she’d rather Misty hear her be harsh than to mince the truth with Lance. “Kind of felt like you were dropping more than just the case. The only other member of your squad to call Misty has been CJ, and that was Wednesday.”

She knew that Lance had never served in the military – wasn’t a former Marine – but damn, he could swear like one. Halfway through his rant, Maria handed the phone back to Misty… maybe hearing Lance’s righteous indignation would make her feel better. Her bunny listened quietly as he complained about his squad’s emotional maturity in explicit terms. When he paused for a breath, Misty spoke. “Is this a case of the bystander effect? I don’t have to call, because someone else will?”

“Probably,” Lance growled. Misty could picture him clearly – pacing the length of whatever room he was in, running his hand up the back of his neck until his short hair was messier than a bird’s nest. “It had fucking better be, or you’re going to be recruiting new Scoobies. At least I won’t have to have words with CJ. Why the hell he’s the only one to call I don’t know, but I sure as hell will fix it. I’m sorry, Misty.” There was enough genuine apology in his tone to soothe her jangled nerves, at least a little.

Misty twined her fingers through Maria’s. “It’s not your fault.” Lily came to sit on her other side, and Rose on the far side of Maria. 

“Taking responsibility and taking blame are two different things, and I’m sure as shit taking responsibility.” He was less angry, now – more resigned. “Just to be clear – you’re cool with us calling you? I don’t want to nag them into calling if you’d rather we don’t.” 

“I’d like to hear from everybody. I miss you. All of you,” Misty admitted softly.

“I’ll pass the word along.” He paused. “Phones go two ways, Buffy. You can call us, too. If I’m tied up at SHIELD I might have to text you instead, but don’t let that stop you.”

Another flare of color around Misty made Lily frown. She met Maria’s eyes, and the senior agent squeezed Misty’s hand in inquiry. Rather than answer Maria directly, Misty ducked her head and said into the phone, “I don’t want to add to anyone’s burden. I know you’re scrambling to cover for us.”

Lance grunted. “Don’t be stupid. If the situation was reversed, you’d be pissed if one of us said that, you know.”

Misty blinked, momentarily speechless… and then she began to chuckle. “Yeah, okay. You’re right.” Maria hid her sigh of relief – she’d half-expected an explosion at Lance’s last remark.

“Of course I am,” he said equably. “Anchor of the clan, remember? Comes with the territory.”

“I’ll give ducks a formal statement this afternoon, alright? I’d do it now, but we’re at the zoo with the flower girls, and I think we’re going to stop and eat before we head back to the Inn.” Misty leaned into Maria’s side.

“I’ll let you go enjoy the animals, then. Give my best to the various Coulsons, would you?”

“Will do, Lancelot.”

They hung up and Misty had returned the phone to her pocket, but she didn’t rise from the bench. The silence was becoming uncomfortable when Rose spoke.

“You need more than food, Aunt Misty,” she said gravely. Misty looked at her, startled. “You need chocolate ice cream.”

~ * ~


	25. Chapter 25

Lance ended his call with Misty, thinking wistfully of landline days – slamming a phone into a receiver would have been cathartic about now. He wanted some outward sign of his discontent – but he didn’t dare smash his cell phone.

No, that was going to be his primary weapon in the next battle.

He asked for – and received – permission to have a clan gathering at the triad’s house for dinner. Phil volunteered to cook and Chuck offered to bring beer – Lance accepted both. Then he started texting – each statement prefaced with ‘Don’t reply now – think about it for later.’

_Why haven’t you called Buffy?_

_If your places were reversed, Misty have called you._

_Buffy thought we weren’t investigating._

_How long were you planning to wait until you checked on your clanmate?_

_Only two Scoobies have called Buffy since her assault._

And the last – which he sent half an hour before the clan was scheduled to converge on the dojo – 

_Misty admitted she misses us. Out loud. In front of witnesses._

He ignored any replies – he was too furious to be sensible – and tried to focus on the tactical plan he was designing. When he failed to make any progress on that, Lance switched to the assault investigation, though he didn’t get any further on it, either.

When he finally walked into the dojo – he didn’t knock, just barged in – Clint met him in the hallway with a hug and a beer. The latter was welcome and appreciated – the former surprised him. Clint was more tactile than Natasha, but it was unusual for him to initiate physical affection… unusual enough to make Lance throttle back some of his anger. He hugged back, missing his parents and siblings as he did so. 

“You think you can handle this evening without violence, or should I find you a couple of plates to smash?” Clint asked.

“Honestly? It could go either way.” Lance’s shoulders slumped. “I dropped the ball. I’m feeling like maybe I don’t deserve to the called the anchor of the clan.”

Rather than utter a reassuring platitude, Clint reached behind Lance and smacked the base of his skull. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Lance blinked at him. “Wow. Hugs and head slaps in equal measure tonight.”

“Whatever it takes.” Clint quirked a grin and gestured for Lance to precede him into the dining room.

Natasha was just laying out the last place setting on the long table. Lance counted quickly and came up with twelve. “Are we expecting guests? Outside the clan?”

“Nope.” Instead of placing the napkin next to the plate of the final two place settings, she laid it across the empty plate. “I thought leaving Misty and Maria’s places set but empty might be illustrative.”

“Clever girl,” Clint said affectionately, and hugged Natasha around the waist.

“You lose your right to deny being a nerd when you quote Jurassic Park at our wife,” Phil called from the kitchen.

More of the tension uncoiled from the base of Lance’s skull. It wasn’t the domesticity he’d grown up with – in his family home, it would have been his mother in the kitchen, and his father at the head of the table grumbling about the day’s news – but it was reassuringly familiar nonetheless. Funny… when they first announced their relationship, Lance never thought it would come to feel normal.

Phil watched Lance surreptitiously – noting the tension and subsequent relaxation, the minute facial expressions that revealed some of his inner monologue. 

The rest of the Scoobies filed in, taking their habitual seats and giving the empty ones long looks. Despite the inquiring looks from his squad mates, Lance waited until everyone had been served a plate of casserole before he spoke. “I appreciate everyone coming tonight. I know the invitation was… less than gracious.”

Chuck snorted. “I ain’t been ordered that sharp since the last time my mama wanted to meet a girlfriend. But you weren’t wrong to do it.” He sighed and tipped his beer in the direction of the empty plates. “You might have overstepped your bounds in terms of squad structure, but as anchor of the clan – yeah. I’ll admit it – I screwed up. I should have gotten in touch with Buffy, or at least checked in with Maria.”

“I’m not mad,” Lance said one a sigh. “I’m just—”

“If you say you’re not mad, you’re just disappointed, I’m going to punch you,” Sam interrupted. “Because that’s what my dad says, and I fucking hate it.”

Phil shot her a quelling look. “Can we try to keep this civil?”

“No.” It wasn’t Sam that answered – it was CJ, and his voice was hard. “I’ve been trying to keep quiet, but Lance pulling this fucking wise man shit – ” He cut himself off and shook his head. “No.” He put down his fork and glared around the table. “Yeah, Misty misses us, and yeah, it would be great if she could hear from her family – but none of you should contact her until you can get your heads out of your asses and treat her normal.”

“Excuse me?” Lance snapped. “Who the hell are you to tell us – ”

“I got just as much right as you to tell the squad – and a hell of a lot more practical experience,” CJ snarled back. “Any one of you calling Misty right now is going to hurt more than it helps, because you’re thinking of her as a fucking victim and not your clanmate.”

“She is a victim,” Chuck pointed out.

CJ’s eyes fixed on their second-in-command. “No.” His voice had dropped to a low rumble, intense and potent. “Victims get put in body bags. She’s a survivor.” No one answered, and instead of soothing him with lack of rejection, it spurred his anger further. He pointed at Chuck. “You can’t stop thinking that this is partly her fault, for being out at a gay bar alone.” He moved his finger to Sam. “You’ve just seen that one of your heroes isn’t perfect, and it scares you – and so you’re taking it out on her.” To Angie, “You’re freaked out because Misty being drugged means it could happen to anyone, including you.” He continued around the table, pointing next to Raj, who visibly recoiled. “You’re judging her for not getting medical attention immediately, because you want to study the fucking drug and you’re letting that color your opinion of her.” Towards Al he growled, “You think she’s shirking her duty by being in Wisconsin.” Turning back to Lance, he said, “You think you can’t trust her judgment anymore, because somebody got the drop on her.”

To everyone’s surprise, his finger pointed next at Clint. “You’re afraid of smothering her, so you’re leaving her to Maria and Phil’s family instead.” To Natasha, he said, “You’re pissed she went to Maria instead of you, and you’ve talked yourself into ‘giving her space’ because of it.” And finally, he pointed at Phil. “You’re too busy trying to pretend everything is fine to realize we all fucking need you.”

CJ rose and set his napkin on the table next to his untouched dinner. “And I’m hanging on to control by the tiniest of slivers, and none of this is fucking helping – it’s not helping me, it’s not helping the clan, and it sure as hell isn’t helping Misty. So let’s get the fuck over ourselves and be a family again.” Phil rose as well, but when he moved towards the sharpshooter, CJ shook his head. “I need a minute, or I’m going to have a breakdown. I’ll be back.”

~ * ~

“Don’t,” Clint advised, snagging Phil’s arm when he moved to follow CJ out of the dining room. “He knows what he needs, Moonbeam.”

Phil’s shoulders slumped. He sank back into his chair and covered his face with one hand, reaching with the other for his husband. “How much of what he said was true?” he asked finally, not looking at his clan.

“I can’t speak for everyone,” Angie said quietly, “but he was right about me. I’m scared. And… yeah, I need my chief, too. All three of my chiefs.”

There were nods of agreement, including a reluctant nod from Chuck. “I know I’m an asshole for thinking it, chief,” he sighed. “I just can’t get it out of my head. I know it’s not her fault – and I know she didn’t ask for it, and any time I doubt that I can hear my mama’s voice in my head threatening to box my ears for it, but. It’s still there.”

Phil was surprised Chuck would admit it – and respectful. It was never easy to have one’s shortcomings shoved up your nose, and CJ had done a pretty forceful job of it. It was also becoming increasingly obvious that while none of them had actually used the term sexual assault, it was being assumed. Phil wished he was surprised, but they were smart people… and the circumstances certainly led to the supposition.

“It’s not like I called to chat with Misty before she was assaulted,” Raj pointed out. “If I call her now, it would just be… she’d know it was only because of what happened.” His eyes flashed to Al, who he suspected was in the same situation. “She’s my squad leader and my clanmate, but we aren’t confidants. Yeah, I want to study the drug – because that’s the only way I know to help her. I’m a shit investigator and I can’t fill her shoes administratively, but if I can find out anything about what she was dosed with…”

CJ’s voice from the doorway surprised him. “You should tell her that.” He moved back into the room, handed a mug of headache tea to Phil. He sat back down in his chair and picked up his fork. “And if you don’t feel comfortable calling, send her an email. Even if it reads like a report – you got the bloodwork from the lab, you’re working on isolating the compound, whatever. She doesn’t need you to be anything but who you are, Raj.”

Raj regarded the sharpshooter carefully. “You look better.”

“I really did just need a minute.” He took a bite of casserole and let his eyes travel around the table. “I’m not sorry for what I said – but I am sorry for how I said it.”

Some of the tension in the room eased, and there was a general resumption of eating. “Smacking us in the face with brutal honesty might have been what we needed,” Lance admitted. And, he thought to himself, it was damned informative to realize how much CJ saw – and how much anger he hid. “I could have handled today better myself, not been so accusatory. I just…” Lance scrubbed at his face with his hands. “If you could have heard her – there were honestly surprised we were investigating, Misty and Maria both.” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Misty damn near apologized for being a burden. Like it’s her fault, and that we’re upset with her for it.”

“Hurts like a bitch to find out someone doesn’t trust you, doesn’t it?” Al asked. There was a bitterness beneath his words that no one wanted to touch – not with everyone feeling so raw.

“She does trust us,” Phil corrected. He sipped the tea CJ had brought him, grateful. “With her life, and her career. With her body and her brain… but her heart’s a little less trusting. I don’t think she’s the only one having some issues with that.” He forced himself to keep his eyes on his tea – he didn’t want anyone to feel that he was singling them out with that comment, because it truly was meant generally. “CJ used the right word earlier – family. Right now, we’re thinking like coworkers and clan, but not so much as family… and I will take responsibility for that. I should – there should have been a way – ”

“Even you aren’t perfect, chief,” Lance interrupted, as gently as he could. “And actually, it’s kind of a relief to know you aren’t.”

Clint and Natasha traded amused glances around Phil. “He isn’t,” Natasha agreed with a small smile.

“But you’re so damned close it’s hard to forget you’re a mere mortal like us,” Sam said with a sigh. “Sorry, sir.”

“I’m not sir at home, Sam.” Phil’s tone gentled, and he reached out to touch the hand she had on the table.

“That wasn’t a boss sir,” CJ surmised, raising an eyebrow at Sam. “Pardon the term, that was a ‘dad’ sir. Her dad,” he added, when Sam flushed. “Mr. Overly Formal Adams.”

Phil chuckled. “If I’ve been invoked as dad-sir, perhaps you’ll indulge me again – let’s finish dinner, and go to the living room,” Phil suggested.

Angie’s eyes brightened. “Harry Potter?” She loved the time they spent listening to Natasha read – loved the nonsexual intimacy, the warmth… the family.

“Not tonight,” Phil demurred, with a small smile. “Just being together.” He paused, letting humor creep into his voice. “And brownies.”

~ * ~


	26. Chapter 26

Misty was quiet the rest of Saturday. They struggled through taking a formal statement – Maria was relieved to send it off to Lance and Phil, knowing it was past them. She wasn’t surprised that Misty didn’t want to talk further about it – and she didn’t push. Her bunny didn’t seem any more upset than she’d been before, just… thoughtful.

So Maria let her think – held her close, and held her own tongue. Goddess knew there were times when all Maria wanted was to not be alone… she could give that to Misty.

Sunday morning they loaded the twins back into the SUV and spent several hours at an alpaca and llama farm about forty-five minutes from the Inn. The owners knew the twins, and they were given a more in-depth tour of the facility that included being allowed into the barn to help bottle-feed two newborn crias – which was apparently the term for a baby alpaca. Maria tried to pretend she wasn’t absolutely charmed by them, but Misty had given her a knowing look and a small smile. By the time they left the farm – bags loaded with hand-spun yarn – Misty was speaking more, and she’d ventured away from Maria long enough to pick up a gift for her ducks.

Granted, it was maybe five minutes before she had to tuck her hand back into Maria’s, but at least she was feeling less adrift.

Rose and Lily disappeared into the Inn with their new yarn, and Maria turned to Misty with a small smile. “You want to take a walk?” Misty raised an eyebrow. Maria had been trying not to be obvious about it, but she’d definitely been encouraging Misty to rest. Maria flushed. “Sorry.”

“I’d like a walk.” She slipped into a coat and gloves before offering her hand to Maria.

They wandered aimlessly – the Inn had pretty significant acreage – and Misty kept bumping her shoulder against Maria’s. The silence wasn’t strained, as she’d feared – it was restful.

It was good to be physical, even if it wasn’t a challenging walk. Aside from their visit to the range, Misty hadn’t done much of what she’d consider physical training since she’d been attacked. They’d walked a fair amount, both at the zoo and today at the farm… but it was different, being out without the twins. 

When it was just her and her ducks.

Misty caught Maria’s hand in her own and squeezed it, wishing it were warm enough to forego gloves. “Thank you.”

Maria raised an eyebrow, darting her eyes sideways. “For what?”

Misty tugged on her hand. “Everything.” She averted her eyes, letting them settle on the frosted trees off to their left. “You’ve been really great, ducks.” Misty was working herself up to say more when Maria’s head came up, her body tensing.

“Do you hear that?” Maria halted, pulling off the stocking cap she’d shoved on at Misty’s request, and tilting her head to one side.

Misty listened as well, and heard a faint… whimpering?

Maria must have heard more, because she seemed to settle on a direction and set out at a much faster walk – and her hand was reaching into her coat for her holster. Misty rolled her eyes – it was highly unlikely that anything they’d find on the Inn property would require the use of her sidearm – but picked up her speed to keep up with Maria.

They crested a small hill, and in the valley that followed was a modest pond. It seemed to Misty like Wisconsin was half ponds and lakes, she thought distractedly, but rational thought abandoned her when they spotted the broken ice, and something thrashing in newly exposed water.

“Call for help,” Maria ordered her. She stripped off her gun belt and handed it and her electronics to Misty before started to edge on to the ice.

Furious at being relegated to the sidelines, Misty dialed Diane’s number and reported their location – but she couldn’t give any more information about who Maria was rescuing. There weren’t any children in the nearest homes, Diane reported – but when Misty shouted that information to Maria, she was ignored.

Maria inched forward, sliding her feet rather than lifting them. Despite the cold, she found herself wishing she was wearing thinner soled boots… sometimes, if you could feel the ice flex… she crept closer to the thrashing. “Hey, it’s okay – help’s here,” Maria said in a soothing voice. If it came out more like what she’d use on a wounded agent than a child, that was okay – but she didn’t get a response.

There was another flurry of thrashing, and Maria was close enough to see a wet shape struggling in the small opening… a wet, furry shape. Son of a bitch, Maria thought to herself – bunny is going to kill me if I get dunked over an animal.

But knowing that it wasn’t human meant she couldn’t count on the victim helping with the rescue. That switched her plan considerably. She lowered herself first to her knees, then onto her belly – spreading out her weight as far as possible – and inched towards the opening. Without knowing what she was rescuing, she couldn’t swear that her steady stream of reassuring words would do any good – but she kept it up anyway.

She’d had a rescue instructor tell her once that she’d need it as much as a target, in an ice rescue – he might have been right.

Finally she reached the edge of the ice, and plunged a hand in. She caught hold of something and pulled, and was gratified to find she held a front paw. A head broke through and the barking cough told her she hadn’t been too late – and that her target was a canine.

Later, Misty would swear that Maria had done it all on her own – that the dog had been dead weight in her arms, and that it was a miracle the ice hadn’t broken further.

That last part, Maria would never argue with her about.

By the time she had the dog in her arms and was creeping backwards from the edge of the ice, help had arrived in the form of Alex, Sarah, and Iris Coulson. She was wrapped in warm blankets and a cup of coffee thrust into her hands. When her canine burden would have been lifted from her arms, Maria’s grasp tightened protectively, and Alex didn’t fight her.

The journey back to the Inn was hazy in Maria’s memory – a jangled mess of wet and cold, and whine of the distressed canine that she couldn’t bring herself to release. Warmth, when said canine stuck a cold nose against her and licked her cheek – more wetness, this time tears as Misty clung to her, the dog awkwardly squeezed between them but not complaining.

Misty directed Maria upstairs to their room, and in to the bathroom. “Out of those wet clothes and into the shower,” Misty said sharply. “And yes, take the damned dog with you.” She was snappish, but couldn’t help herself – Maria had scared the daylights out of her. She was also shivering as well – she’d gotten wet hugging both rescuer and rescuee. 

Diane stood in the open door to the Yellow Room. “If you’re sure you can handle it – ”

“I am,” Misty said, with more sharpness than Diane really deserved. She closed her eyes briefly. “Sorry. Yes. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll send up a tray,” Diane continued. “Tea, something to eat – something for the dog.”

Misty impulsively hugged her. “Thanks.” Diane disappeared back down the hallway, shooing the twins downstairs with her. Misty closed the door to the Yellow Room and followed Maria into the bathroom.

Maria’d finally released the dog, Misty realized. Though still damp, she could make out a general breed… some kind of Rottweiler mix, she thought… and not in good condition. “Hey, there,” she said softly, crouching down. She glanced at Maria, who was standing under the warm water with her eyes closed. “Seems friendly enough,” she commented to Maria as the dog approached her and gave a cautious lick to her hand.

“She does,” Maria agreed.

“She?”

“I checked.” Maria placed one hand on either side of the shower controls, leaning forward. “Is she still shivering?”

Misty ran a cautious hand down the black furred back. “I think she’s okay. Skinny though, mostly…” The dog pressed up against her, and Misty got an idea why Maria couldn’t let her go. The dog was skin and bones, most places… except her belly. “Fucking hell.”

“I said pretty much the same thing.” Maria sounded exhausted. “We need to get her to a vet, bunny. She’s not wearing a collar, but she might be chipped. Microchipped.”

“Tomorrow,” Misty said firmly. “It’s Sunday, ducks – Sunday afternoon in a not-so-large town. I doubt we can find a vet right now, and…” she gave the dog one more pat before standing and seizing two towels, “… you’re not going anywhere until I’ve read you the riot act.”

Maria opened her eyes and turned her head to stare at Misty. She was still staring blankly when Misty reached in and turned off the water, handing Maria a towel for her hair and one for her body. When Maria’s hands fumbled, Misty took over.

She didn’t speak again until Maria was dressed in SHIELD sweats and Marine Corps hoodie, and then it was just to order Maria into the bed. The senior agent complied – after lifting the dog onto the foot of it.

Misty opened the door to the Yellow Room and retrieved the tray Diane had left them. Despite not having a dog, Phil’s mother had managed to locate dog food. Misty shook her head – when the hell would Coulsons stop surprising her? – and placed the bowl of dog food and one of water at the end of the bed for the dog. She sniffed at the food suspiciously, but took a cautious bite.

While the dog ate, Misty poured tea from the Thermos for each of them, and handed cup and a sandwich to Maria before climbing in beside her. She waited until Maria was eating before she spoke again. “You scared the crap out of me, ducks. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking it was a kid,” Maria admitted. Safe and warm now, she was feeling the effects of her efforts… muscle fatigue, and the kind of bone-deep cold that no shower was going to fix. The tea was helping. Misty’s presence helped more. “It’s usually a kid.”

“Usually?” Misty’s eyebrows shot up. “You got a lot of experience with ice rescues?”

Maria ducked her head. “More than I’d like.”

Pissed or not, Misty wasn’t going to poke that particular wound – not if it made Maria physically submissive. Instead, she fed the dog a bite of her sandwich. “You have sensei’s saving people thing,” she said finally. “And by the way – I’m not a fucking bystander, ducks. I could have helped.”

Maria shot her an incredulous look. “Have you ever been on a cold-water rescue? Been on thin ice? Jesus, bunny.” The full body shudder that rocked her surprised both of them, and Maria turned to set plate and cup on the side table. Misty hastily did the same as Maria’s arms came around her, holding her just shy of too tightly. “There was no fucking way I could keep it together if you’d followed me out there, bunny. I needed to be able to focus on my feet and – if you’d been out there, I wouldn’t have been.” All her focus would have been on Misty – over and above her own safety, and nevermind the target of her rescue.

Most of the fight leached out of Misty at that admission. She hadn’t been thinking all that clearly herself, with her ducks in danger – and that scared her almost as much as the threat to Maria’s safety. What would she do, when they were back at SHIELD? In training or – and her throat closed at the thought – in the field together? 

The dog – almost forgotten – wormed her way up the bed until she could rest her large, angular head against Maria’s arm. Maria unwound one arm from Misty to wrap around the dog. “I couldn’t not save her,” Maria murmured. “Even when I knew it wasn’t a kid – even before I knew she was a dog, and probably full of puppies. I couldn’t walk away, bunny.”

“I know.” Misty tipped her head forward until she could press her forehead against Maria’s. “Just – you scared me. I didn’t know what to do, and…” That was the crux of it, really – she hadn’t known how to help. Hadn’t known what to do if something went wrong or really, beyond Maria plunging into the icy water herself, what ‘going wrong’ would even have looked like. Maria was right – this kind of rescue wasn’t in her experience or her training. Above not knowing what to do… Misty hadn’t known how to handle the fear. Oh, she worried about her teammates – fretted any time they were in the field. She’d experienced the stomach-wrench of hearing a gunshot land – thank the Goddess, on a protective vest – and she’d sat in hospital waiting rooms or SHIELD medical waiting for a professional to tell her if her friend, her coworker, her teammate was going to be alright. She thought she’d understood fear. None of it had prepared her for the choking grip of the thought of losing Maria.

The dog whined softly, and licked at the tears welling up in Misty’s eyes. Misty wiped them irritably – though she didn’t really push the dog away – and Maria had to swallow hard. “I know. I’m sorry.” She wished she could say everything she was thinking – that she was sorry she’d scared her bunny, sorry that she’d caused that fear… sorry that she didn’t know how to make it go away, now. She couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t happen again.

“I need you,” Misty whispered. “So next time you decide to be a superhero, would you please be extra careful?”

“Yeah.” That was a safe promise – and Maria meant it, from the tips of her hair to the ends of her thawing toes.

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were hoping for wicked realism for the ice rescue -- I started to. Problem is, living in Alaska means cold water rescues are common and fucking terrifying. I worked myself into a CJ-worthy breakdown trying to write it -- so you're getting a sanitized version. Bottom line? If you're ever in the situation that M&M find themselves in on that pond -- make damned sure the people going out on the ice or in the water are trained, or you'll wind up with more victims than you started with. Please be smart, and careful.


	27. Chapter 27

Misty blinked tired eyes open when she heard the door to the Yellow Room open slowly. She turned, and saw one of the twins silhouetted against the light from the hallway. “Lily?”

“Yeah, Aunt Misty.” The girl crept forward. “I came to take the dog outside to pee. Is that okay?”

The dog lifted her head, and thumped her tail against the bed. “If she’ll go with you, sure,” Misty answered quietly. Maria hadn’t stirred, and she didn’t want to wake her ducks if she could avoid it.

Lily produced a leather collar and leash from behind her back and extended it towards the dog. Misty raised an eyebrow, and Lily gave her a small smile. “They were in the Midnight Room. Don’t ask.” When the dog had sniffed the items, Lily fastened the collar around her neck and snapped the leash on. “Come on, upsy daisy,” she coaxed. “Let’s go outside.” The dog leapt heavily down from the bed, and Lily frowned. “I’ll find a step stool or something. Bed’s too high.”

Dog and girl vanished out the door, and Misty let her head fall back onto the pillow. She was grateful – it hadn’t occurred to her that the dog might need to go out. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly nine – the girls must be getting ready for bed. She should wake Maria up for a meal but… ducks was sleeping so soundly, and it’s not like the food wouldn’t be there, if they woke up hungry in the night.

Misty was half-drowsing, watching Maria sleep, when Lily returned. She placed a step-stool at the foot of the bed and urged the dog up it before removing leash and collar and scratching her ears. “Good girl,” Lily murmured. “One of us will let her out in the morning before school, if you aren’t up,” she promised Misty.

“Thanks.” Misty flailed a little in the dim before catching Lily’s hand and squeezing it.

Lily smiled and leaned forward to kiss Misty’s cheek. “Just take care of Aunt Maria, okay? You guys need rest.”

“I can do that.” She smiled at the girl, and was still smiling when the door shut behind her. The dog crawled up towards her, nudging at her hand until she started scratching her ears.

~ * ~

It was Maria who awoke at the opening of the door this time. The dog thumped the bed with her tail, and Maria found herself smiling. “Who is it?”

“It’s Rose.” The girl slipped quietly into the room with leash and collar in hand. “Came to take the dog out before school.”

Maria hadn’t realized they’d slept through the night – clearly they’d both been more exhausted than they wanted to admit. “I should get up anyway.” She moved to extract herself from the bed, and realized the dog wasn’t the only one that needed to pee. Sleeping twelve hours would do that to a person.

Rose frowned. “I thought Aunt Misty didn’t like to wake up alone.”

“Right.” Maria yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Okay, you sit here with her for a minute while I use the bathroom, and then I’ll take you up on the dog offer.” She made short work of it, not wanting to make Rose late for school. Before she slid back under the covers, she gave Rose a hug. “I really appreciate this.”

The girl brushed off the gratitude, as Maria had expected, and disappeared out the door with the dog. Maria settled herself back into bed, easing Misty back into position on her shoulder. The blonde gave a contented sigh and nuzzled closer. 

Goddess, how was she supposed to give this up when they went home? When she stopped to think about it, she’d only greeted seven sunrises with Misty in her arms… but it felt so natural. And honestly, she’d never slept better. That surprised her – she’d never been able to relax with another person in the room, nevermind in the bed… at least, not before this clan thing.

Was that why she was so comfortable with Misty? Because of the wacky druid kinship thing?

The door to their room opened again, and Rose led the dog back inside and up the stepstool. “You need anything before I go?” Rose asked, peering at her aunts.

“No, thanks.” Maria was glad it was Rose and not Lily, this morning – Lily would have seen her distress. 

And it was distress, Maria admitted to herself after Rose had left. The idea that this… whatever it was… between her and Misty was just clan stuff… that hurt.

There was a soft whine from the dog, and Maria felt a blunt head nudge her hip through the covers. She dropped a hand down and the dog pushed her ears under Maria’s hand. She kept scratching as she thought. It didn’t matter, ultimately, if this thing was clan related or not, Maria decided. Her bunny needed her right now (and, a hopeful voice insisted, maybe forever) and that was a hell of a lot more important than analyzing whatever it was between them, or trying to pinpoint a cause.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Misty mumbled into Maria’s neck.

“Sorry, bunny.” She smoothed her hand down the blonde hair tickling her chin.

Misty blinked sleep out of her eyes, looking adorably confused. “What is it? You’ve gone all tense.” Misty’s arms tightened around Maria. “Somebody call? What’s going on?”

Guilt swamped Maria at the worry in Misty’s tone, drowsy as she was. “It’s not like that, bunny. I was just…”

“Oh.” Misty relaxed into her again. “This is a freak out, then. Bad one?”

“Medium,” Maria admitted, letting her hand fall back to stroking Misty’s hair – the other found its way to velvety soft dog ears. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You’re allowed.” Misty yawned, but it turned into a giggle as the dog wormed her way up the bed to nudge at Misty’s shoulder. “She has to have a family, ducks – she’s too sweet to be feral.”

Maria hand stilled mid-scratch, and the dog pushed her head against Maria’s fingers to get her to resume the caress. “She might have had one, but either she’s been on her own for a while… or her family isn’t taking care of her. Maybe not abuse, because she doesn’t seem to shy away from anybody but… she’s skin and bones, and that’s not healthy. Especially not for a mama dog full of puppies.”

“How sure are you about the puppies?” Misty looked down at the dog and grimaced. She was emaciated – except for the gravid belly. “Yeah, okay. I kinda wanted you to be wrong.”

“I still could be.” Maria shrugged the shoulder that Misty wasn’t pressed into. “We’ll get her to a vet today and find out – and see if she’s chipped. Hopefully she’s just been lost awhile, and there’s somebody looking for her – somebody who’ll feed her up, take care of her.”

“And if there isn’t?” Misty levered herself up to make eye contact with Maria.

It wasn’t difficult to read the question in Misty’s eyes. “We can’t, bunny,” Maria whispered. “It wouldn’t be fair to her. We’re never home.”

Misty sighed. “I know. You’re right. I can’t even keep a damned houseplant alive.”

“The only one of us who manages it is the triad – and that’s because Catriona stops by to water and revive it,” Maria said dryly, running her fingers through Misty’s hair. “It might not matter, bunny. She might have her very own family, looking desperately for her.”

“Since when are you the optimist?” Misty teased gently, and slid out of bed. “I’m for a shower, breakfast, and finding a vet.”

Maria yawned. “I’m skipping the shower – do you want me to stay up here until you’re done, or meet you in the kitchen?”

Misty flashed her a smile as she pawed through bags for something to wear. “You can go down. I won’t be long.”

Taking her at her word, Maria dressed as well (jeans and a Jurassic Park t-shirt she’d stolen from Clint) and headed downstairs with the dog at her side. “Morning,” she said to the Coulsons, moving to pour a cup of coffee.

There were strangers at the table when she turned, and she nearly dropped her mug. Right. She’d forgotten that some of the guests stayed for breakfast, too. “Umm…”

Alex, who was manning the stove, snagged her wrist and pulled. When she was close enough, he planted a fond kiss on her forehead. “Good morning, Maria. Do you and Misty want to join us, or eat in your room?”

Maria was nonplussed by the affection – again – and had to shuffle her brain to answer his question. “Um. I don’t know.”

Diane chuckled. “Why don’t we let Misty decide, then. I’ll just make you up a plate.”

“Did you know they had more kids?” one of the guests asked, leaning over to his partner – and Alex chuckled.

“I’m not actually a Coulson,” Maria demurred, sitting down at the table near the guest who’d spoken. He was about Alex’s age, grey haired and slightly stooped. “Guilty by association.”

“You’re family all the same,” Diane assured her, setting a heaping plate in front of her. “Tuck in, there. I’ll make up something for Misty.”

Maria obediently lifted her fork, missing the amused glance shared by the couple in front of her. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” Maria said as she cut a sausage patty into neat bites. “I’m Maria Hill.”

The two men introduced themselves as Larry Voight and Martin Daniels – they were visiting from Minnesota. This was their sixth year spending Valentine’s in Manitowoc at the Inn, Maria learned. “It’s nice to come visit Alex, trade bullshit,” Larry said, leaning back in his chair with his coffee. “Just a coupla old war horses, bellyin’ up to the trough.”

Misty raised her eyebrows as she entered, taking her plate from Diane with a swift hug. “You worked with Alex at SHIELD?” she asked, sitting down next to Maria.

Larry sat up abruptly, looking to Alex at the stove. Phil’s father avoided the gaze, though there was a flicker of a twitch at the edge of his lips. “You know SHIELD?”

Maria frowned and turned to glare at Alex. “Why do you enjoy springing that on people?” When his only answer was a chuckle, she turned back to Larry. “Misty and I work with Phil.” She introduced Misty briefly before returning her attention to the mound of food Diane had served her. “Misty’s his protege – he and I share a lot of administrative duties.”

Larry let out a low whistle. “Well, hell.” He grinned at his partner, and Martin rolled his eyes. “This trip just got a whole hell of a lot more int’rusting,” he drawled. “What say we top off the coffee and retire to the den for some serious storytelling’?”

Maria flickered her eyes at Misty, who nodded slightly. “Sure. But I’m not telling you anything that’ll get me in trouble with Phil,” she cautioned with a grin.

“Spoilsport.”

Misty hung back when they left. Diane bustled over to refill her coffee. “What do you need, lovey?” Phil’s mother asked. “You look… pensive.”

“Need to find a vet to see the dog,” Misty said. The dog, rather than begging for table scraps, had curled up at Misty’s feet and put her head down. Misty had tucked her toes into the warm fur, finding that the canine presence made the strangers a little easier to deal with. “Got any ideas?”

“I made a few calls.” Diane dug into the pocket of her apron and produced a slip of paper – only slightly spattered with dried pancake batter. “Third one down is the one Thom recommends – I guess a lot of his veteran buddies take their dogs there.”

“Sounds good to me.” Misty looked over the list and tucked it into her jeans pocket. Diane sat down across from her and seemed to be hesitating. Misty gave her a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Just spit it out, Mama Diane.”

Phil’s mother decided it was best not to make an issue of the nickname. She liked it, but hadn’t expected Misty to use it. She forced her thoughts back in order. “If… if she needs a home, were you intending to take her with you?”

“No.” Misty scrunched her toes in the dog’s fur. “Wish we could, but it’s not really an option.”

Diane chose not to mention the use of the plural pronoun, either. “Well, if it comes to it – we’ll figure something out.”

~ * ~


	28. Chapter 28

Misty ate as much of her breakfast as she could manage – she’d given up trying to empty the plate around Diane – and called the veterinarian that Thom had recommended. She scheduled an appointment just before lunch, then took her tea into the den to join the conversation.

Or, more accurately, she thought wryly from the doorway, the bullshit session already in progress.

“And then, I shit you not,” Larry was saying as he leaned forward, “she pulled her sidearm and fired off two rounds at ‘im – one through the brim of his hat, and the other through his pantleg. Didn’t even draw blood – but he pissed hisself.”

Maria snorted, looking up at Misty with amusement dancing in her eyes. “Larry had a few run-ins with Director Carter,” she explained as the blonde moved to sit next to her. The dog followed, and flopped at their feet. “She made an impression.”

“I can imagine,” Misty smiled. They were strangers, yes – but a retired SHIELD agent and his partner didn’t seem to put her hackles up the way even Jeran and Daniel had. “I wish I’d had a chance to see her in action – I’ve only heard second hand accounts.”

“Best kind,” Larry said with a grin, toasting her with his coffee cup. “Carter never sung ‘er own praises, y’know. Iffin’ she were to tell the same tale, she’d just say she ‘persuaded’ him.”

“Sounds familiar,” Misty drawled, looking sideways at Maria. “Sensei’s wife Nat talks like that.”

“Phil’s wife Natasha,” Maria translated, when Larry looked blank. “She and their husband Clint work with us too.”

“Which isn’t to be repeated,” Alex stated firmly from the doorway. How he’d heard the conversation, Maria wasn’t sure – she hadn’t noticed him following from the kitchen. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you and Martin that SHIELD regs aren’t kind to certain relationships, and my son’s is one of them.”

Martin held up his hands defensively. “No one will hear it from me, Alex. Or from Larry.”

Alex turned his gaze on Larry – and Misty was startled to see that it was a familiar glare. She’d never seen Alex use the Agent-Coulson-Is-In-Charge glower – didn’t even know he was capable of it. She’d seen hints of it in Diane, but Alex had never given off an ‘Agent’ vibe. He sure as hell was now, she realized – and beneath that Agent stare, there was a solid core of… dadness.

Misty found her throat tight and reached for Maria’s hand – to find the senior agent’s hand reaching for hers as well.

“Your boy’s secret’s safe with me,” Larry said solemnly. “Those damned antifrat regs ‘ave kept too many agents in lonely beds, what coulda snatched some happiness. Ain’t nobody gonna hear any diff’rent from me.” Then he raised an eyebrow at Misty and Maria. “Not ‘bout any of your brood.”

“Larry.” Martin didn’t say anything else – and his tone was carefully neutral – but Larry’s expression shifted immediately and he leaned back in his chair again, posture deliberately casual. Martin gave him a small approving nod before turning his attention back to the women. “If your Natasha stories are anything like Larry’s Director Carter stories, I’d like to hear one.”

Maria flicked her eyes to Misty to see if she wanted to tell a tale, but the blonde’s eyes weren’t on her. Instead, she was looking over her shoulder at Alex, who still stood in the doorway. Without speaking, he walked over and planted a paternal kiss first on her forehead, then on Maria’s – and left the room.

~ * ~

Phil was already at his desk at SHIELD and on his third cup of coffee – and second crisis – when his personal phone rang. He barely glanced at the screen of his phone before answering it. “Hey, Mom. Calling to update me on my fledglings?”

“I was, but I’m not your mother,” Alex said in amusement. 

Phil’s attention shifted immediately from the field report in front of him to his far-distant father. “What’s wrong? Mom? The girls?” He wasn’t sure which girls he meant by that – the twins, his sisters, his clanmates…

“I realize I don’t call often, son, but honestly,” Alex said gently, “that’s no reason to assume there’s mortal peril.”

“Sorry, Dad.” Phil took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been a little tense.”

Alex made a rueful noise. “I can imagine. Are you alone?”

“Do I need to be?” Anxiety crept back into Phil’s tone.

“Son, take a deep breath. I’m trying to figure out if you can speak freely – although at this point, it might not be a bad idea if you had one of your loves handy to smack you upside the head when you panic.”

Phil inhaled at his father’s command – instinctive obedience – and blew it out slowly. “If either of them were free, I’d—” He was interrupted by Clint opening his office door, closing and bolting it behind him. “Dad, did you cheat and text Clint? Because my office was just invaded by an overprotective husband.”

Clint slid onto Phil’s lap and tucked his head near the phone against Phil’s ear. “Hi, Alex.” To Phil, he murmured, “It was a distress call from the mothership – Big Mama, not Mama Diane. Ease up, Moonbeam. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the clan could feel your worry.”

“Good morning, Clint,” Alex said. Part of him wished that Clint could find a nickname for him – it seemed like he was the only one the archer ever called by name. A larger part wanted that nickname to be ‘Dad’ – or a variation of it. “As I was saying before Phil panicked—”

“I do not panic,” Phil protested. Clint snorted but didn’t speak.

“—I was calling to report in on your agents – what did you call them, your fledglings?” Alex continued, ignoring Phil’s complaint. “They’re currently settled in the den with Larry and Martin – you remember Larry, Phil?”

“Agent Voight?” Phil blinked. “I’d forgotten they’d be there… yeah, I remember him. Retired SHIELD agent,” he supplied for Clint. “Amazing story teller. Really plays up the good old boy image, but it works – saw him get a confession out of a perp once by telling him ‘Son, that dog ain’t gonna hunt’ and then just sitting back and staring until the perp caved.” Phil shook his head in awe. “It was a thing of beauty.”

“Who’s Martin?” Clint asked.

“His partner,” Alex replied. “Former FBI. Or CIA? One of the other alphabet agencies. He’s a dab hand with a tale himself, but he usually plays the foil for Larry.”

Phil shifted phone and husband around until he could take a sip of coffee. Clint used the change in position to slip an arm around Phil, stroking the back of his neck where tension usually accumulated. “I’m not surprised Maria would gravitate to them,” Phil mused.

“I wanted to pick your brain about something…” Alex hesitated. “It’s none of my business, really—”

Clint snorted. “When has that ever stopped a Coulson?”

“Fair point. But your girls are both… twitchy… about fathers.” He said it hesitantly, knowing that his son-in-law had a similar trigger. “First time I kissed Maria’s forehead, she looked like she’d been pole-axed.”

Both Phil’s eyebrows lifted, and he knew if he looked at Clint he’d see a similar expression. “You got Maria Hill to accept physical affection?”

“Yes…?” Alex sounded completely baffled. “She’s not a cold woman – she’s plenty affectionate with Misty, and the twins. Even that dog she hauled up last night.”

“We’ll come back to the dog,” Phil promised, “but seriously, Dad. Maria doesn’t do emotion. She doesn’t really do touch, outside physical training. Well – I’ve gotten her to accept a hug now and again, but—”

“Philip.” His father’s voice was stern. “I know the difference between refusal and reluctance – and fear of rejection. This is most definitely the latter.” A note of command crept into his voice that Clint hadn’t heard from Alex, yet – though he was familiar with it. “If you’ve been treating her as though she doesn’t deserve—”

“Dad.” This time it was Phil who interrupted. “You know me better than that.”

Clint would have bet his left arm that Alex was either pinching the bridge of his nose or rubbing his forehead – both mannerisms having been passed on to Phil. “You’re right, son. I’m sorry.” Alex sighed. “They’ve kicked up all my protective instincts, I’m afraid.”

“I’m familiar with the problem,” Phil said dryly. Clint chuckled.

“I’d still like to know about their fathers – at least, enough to know that I’m not going to push either of them into an anxiety attack,” Alex continued. “I wasn’t really thinking when I kissed Misty’s forehead – she didn’t seem upset, but I’d rather know what landmines to avoid.”

Phil debated his answer – weighing privacy against concern. “As far as I know, Misty had a good relationship with her father – while she had him. He was a LEO killed in the line when she was twelve.” Alex made a pained noise, one Phil agreed with wholeheartedly. “Maria’s father is still alive but not welcome in her life.”

“If you’re asking if your dadness is going to set either of them off like it did me…” Clint began. He had to pause for a steadying breath. “As far as I know, you’re clear, there. Maria’s dad sounds like an asshole – and he sure fucked up her self-esteem – but I don’t think she’s ever been afraid of him.”

“Thank you.” Alex swallowed the ‘son’ that wanted to append itself to his gratitude – he knew it wouldn’t be welcome. “Do you think…”

Phil waited for his father to continue, then huffed out a sigh. “Dad, I can’t answer the question until you finish asking it.”

“Impertinent whelp,” Alex retorted. “Do you think it would help or harm, to let myself act like their father? I can continue to hold back, if it’s what they need…”

“Damn, Moonbeam – I didn’t realize you got your saving-people-thing on both sides,” Clint murmured.

“I hide it better than my wife,” Alex replied, and Clint could hear the smile in his tone.

An answering smile lit Clint’s face, and Phil felt a fresh surge of tenderness towards his husband. “You do,” Clint told Alex, his lips almost brushing against Phil’s cheek to make himself heard through the cell phone microphone. “I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” Then, because the moment was threatening to choke him, he added, “It was hidden behind tactlessness.”

“Pot, kettle,” Phil said mildly, making both husband and father laugh. “I don’t think Misty would be averse to some fathering – she’s accepting enough of it when I act paternally. Maria is the wild-card, Dad, and I’m afraid I don’t know. From what you describe, the Maria you’re experiencing is… different.”

Alex hummed. “She appears to have matured, just in the week she’s been here. Opened up some. It’s been interesting to watch her with your grasshopper. I’d thought it was all one-sided, but seeing how furious Misty was when Maria went into the water—”

“Into the water?” Phil repeated blankly. Clint realized the muscles beneath his hands, in Phil’s neck and shoulders, were tightening. “What water?”

“Ah… perhaps I should let one of them explain—”

“Tell me,” Phil ordered – and he wasn’t sure which voice came out… Agent Coulson, Taoiseach, Treorai – or just a worried friend. Whatever his father heard, it was enough to convince him to speak. When Alex finished describing the ice rescue, Phil forced himself to take a deep breath. “You’re certain they’re both all right?” Clint pinched him, and Phil closed his eyes. “Sorry, Dad. That came out more chiefish than I meant it to.”

“They’re both fine – and the dog appears to be as well, though I believe they’re taking her to the vet today,” Alex answered. He wasn’t offended by his son’s behavior… he understood it, all too well. Misty and Maria might not be Phil’s children – but he was reacting as a parent. Alex was self-aware enough to recognize the protectiveness in his son – he’d be in much the same state if it had been Darla in the water. And, knowing what he would have needed, if it had been one of his girls – “Phil, you need to call them,” Alex urged gently. “Video chat would be better, but at least call. You’re not going to rest easy until you reassure yourself. I didn’t realize you didn’t know about it, or I wouldn’t have said anything.” Wouldn’t have added to the burden already on his son’s shoulders.

Clint rose from Phil’s lap and moved to the electric kettle, dropping a sachet of headache tea into a clean cup. “He’s right, Moonbeam,” he said quietly. “Between the headache and the worrying, you’re not going to get any crap done – so call the grasshopper.”

Phil wasn’t sure if he was sighing at his husband or his father. “You’re both right. I’ll call, as soon as we’re done.” He rubbed his forehead – only now acknowledging the headache that Clint had apparently noticed before he had. “Dad… I’m glad they’re there, with you and Mom,” Phil said quietly. “If they can’t be here… just, thanks.” Clint cupped one hand around Phil’s chin, feeling the heat of embarrassment. “Tell Mom for me, would you?”

“I will, son.” Alex cleared a throat suspiciously tight. “You let that husband of yours take care of you now, alright? And call your girls.”

“Yes, sir.”

~ * ~


	29. Chapter 29

Maria wasn’t surprised to see Phil’s name when her cell phone rang. With an apologetic grin to Larry and Martin, she answered the call. “Hey, chief.”

Phil was momentarily taken aback – that was about six levels of relaxation further than he’d expected to hear from Maria… ever. “Maria. I just got off the phone with my father and – ”

“And you needed to call and chastise me for my daring doggy rescue?” Maria supplied, flashing a grin at Misty.

“Damn.” Misty leaned her head back against the back of the couch. “I thought we’d make it until noon, at least, before sensei called.”

Maria snickered. “You mind if I put you on speaker, chief? It’s me and bunny, and your dad’s friends Larry and Martin. They seem like the type to appreciate the dressing down you’re going to deliver.”

“You can put me on speaker, but I wasn’t calling to chastise – or give you a dressing down.” Phil sounded… tired, Maria realized, and she cocked her head at Misty as she set the phone on the coffee table where they could all hear it – and be heard.

“Are you okay, sensei?” Misty asked.

“Am I okay?” he repeated blankly. They heard a muffled thump, and Misty wondered if it was the sound of Phil kicking his desk – or maybe hitting his head on it. “I called to ask you that.”

Misty flashed a few hand signs to Maria – private Scooby ones that Larry wouldn’t recognize – before pulling out her cell phone to text Clint. Maria nodded that she’d understood before turning her attention back to the open call. “I don’t even have any pulled muscles, Phil,” Maria reassured him. “All that came of it was getting really cold for a while – and a tongue lashing from Misty.”

“Which you thoroughly deserved,” Misty said tartly. “Going out onto thin ice all by your lonesome, no equipment, no back-up—”

“I thought it was a kid!” Maria protested. “And you’re not trained in cold water rescue, bunny. I wasn’t going to put you in harm’s way—”

Larry snorted. His partner Martin gave him a dirty look, but the retired SHIELD agent merely shook his head, laughter spilling out. “Y’all’re so concerned with keepin’ ev’rybody safe – doggone, I’d forgotten what it’s like to be ‘round so many white hats.”

“If you’ll recall, Agent Voight, I prefer silk ties over Stetsons,” Phil drawled – but he sounded less tense.

“You’d look hot in Western wear,” Misty said thoughtfully. “Oh, please tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

Maria raised an eyebrow at Misty – knowing full well that comment was unlikely to be accidental. “Hate to break it to you…”

The unrestrained laughter coming through the phone now made Misty grin. “If you ask my Mom nicely, grasshopper, she might dig out the photos of me from seventh grade – and my cowboy costume. For what it’s worth, Clint and Natasha are on your side.”

“Well, duh. Nascha’s got good taste… and Cuz is sensible enough to agree with her.”

Phil snorted. “Are you saying Clint doesn’t have good taste?”

“Sensei, I’ve seen the man’s closet. He owns both a mesh shirt and a pair of MC Hammer pants.” Misty shuddered dramatically, which made Maria chuckle.

“They were for an op!” Phil protested, but he was still amused. “Well, the shirt was. I’m afraid there’s no defense for those pants.”

“I reckon I’d like ta tell of an op what calls for a mesh shirt,” Larry mused, tilting his head at Maria. “You know the tale, missy?”

Maria’s answering grin was wolfish. “I know a couple of them.”

“Oh, I gotta hear this,” Misty breathed. 

“I’ll let you get back to your tall tales,” Phil said, “as long as you promise me you both really are okay.”

Misty picked up the cell phone and switched the speaker off. “Hey. Sensei. It’s just you and me,” she murmured. “Laoch scail and I are good, chief. We’re gonna drink coffee and tea and bullshit with your dad’s friends, and then we’re gonna take the dog to the vet, and I wouldn’t be doing any of that if I thought ducks had taken any actual harm from her heroics yesterday.”

“I know. I’m sorry for fussing.” Phil’s voice was quieter now too – not just because he spoke for her alone, but because he felt no need to pretend with his grasshopper. “Dad was right, I wasn’t going to be able to focus until I talked to the both of you.”

“You and your dad are surprisingly alike,” Misty told him. “It’s easier to see it with your mom – but I saw it today, with your dad.” Her eyes met Maria’s, and flickered to where she could see Alex lurking in the hallway. “I’m okay with the fussing. From you and your dad both, Phil.” She could tell he was surprised at her use of his name – a deliberate choice on her part, to emphasize her point. “About yesterday – and about last weekend. I know that’s what you’re fretting about,” she added gently, when he didn’t respond. Maria reached for her hand, and Misty squeezed back. “Just… try to get the really dramatic fussing out of the way before I get back to work, okay? I don’t want my name in the running for your Mystery Date.”

Phil blew out a breath. “I’ll do my best.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else, chief.”

~ * ~

“Is it just me, or was Phil a little… volatile… this morning?” Maria asked as they loaded the dog into their borrowed SUV.

Misty paused in the process of urging the dog up into the seat, resuming her motions when the dog whined. “Reminded me of Clint at Midsummer, actually. I know he’s under stress – you leave big shoes to fill, ducks – but yeah, volatile is a good word.”

Maria slid into the driver’s seat – after making sure Misty was buckled in – and headed towards the vet’s office. “There’s what, eight rituals a year? Isn’t that what Nat said? Did we manage to hit one of their psychic voodoo days?”

“I have no idea, but I bet Google does.” Misty pulled out her cell phone and spent a few minutes on it. “Huh. Apparently there was one right around the first of February. Next one’s late March. So… if this is mama mojo, it’s not related to the calendar.” She reached into the rear seat to lay a comforting hand on the dog, who was whining again. “My money’s on clanchief crap. It felt… familial.”

“It felt paternal,” Maria corrected, and slid her eyes sideways. “I know you’re allergic to familial terms, but – ”

“I know. It felt like a dad thing.” Misty looked out the window. “I got the so-afraid-I’m-mad lecture from my dad once or twice. Felt a hell of a lot like Sensei was trying his damndest not to give it to me today.”

“Is that… going to be a problem, bunny? From Phil, or from Alex? Because I saw him hovering, too – and as irritating as it is to be fussed over –”

“It isn’t a problem.” Misty’s voice was soft. “I meant it, when I told Sensei I was okay with the fussing. It’s… they aren’t trying to replace my dad, just… fill the void, I guess. And right now, I can kind of use it.” That wasn’t easy to admit either – that she needed anyone grated, but that she needed anyone beyond her ducks hurt. “Is it… a problem for you?”

Maria wished she wasn’t driving – wished she could pull Misty into her arms and nestle the blonde head into her shoulder… where it belonged. “Nothing you need is a problem for me, bunny.”

Misty leveled a look at her that somehow managed to convey both irritation and affection. “I meant is it a problem if they fuss over you, ducks.”

“Other than not deserving it? No.” The words spilled out before she could censor them. She saw Misty draw in a breath to retort, and shook her head. “Sorry. Knee jerk reaction. I’m trying to get over that, I really am.”

“I know.” Misty shifted her hand from the dog in the back seat to Maria’s thigh. Maria dropped one hand from the steering wheel to cover Misty’s, and they remained that way until reaching the veterinarian’s office.

The first challenge was getting the previously-easy-going dog out of the SUV. She dug in her heels, so to speak – Misty didn’t want to haul on her collar, but she wasn’t sure how else to get the dog out of the vehicle. “Damn. Why didn’t I think to bring bribes?” Misty muttered. “Come on, little mama. We need to go get you and your pups checked out.”

Maria reached into the car, but backed off when it only caused the dog to wedge herself farther back against the wall. “I’m going to run in and see if they sell anything for treats,” Maria said, smoothing Misty’s hair automatically as she passed. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” Misty sat at the edge of the open door, leash still in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said to the dog, who was shivering. “I don’t like going to the doctor either, but this is important.” Misty reached one hand towards the dog, palm up. “I promise, I’m not just being mean.” The dog inched forward to sniff her palm, and Misty was relieved to hear her tail thump against the floor of the SUV.

Maria returned with a resealable bag of dog treats – the smell of which made Misty recoil. “Sorry, bunny, but the receptionist says they’re a favorite.” She plucked one out of the bag and held it out to the dog in the palm of her hand. “There’s more, if you’ll just get out of the car. I promise.”

Idly, Misty wondered why they were both talking to the dog like she was human, and decided not to worry about it.

With much patience and half the bag of treats, they eased the dog up the steps and into the veterinarian’s office. Misty sat down with her while Maria checked them in. The dog was trembling again, and Misty rubbed her ears comfortingly. “I know,” she murmured. “Medical sucks.”

Eventually they were ushered into an exam room, and Maria lifted the dog up onto the exam table. She had continued to tremble, but seemed steadier when Misty and Maria each had a hand on her.

They hadn’t waited long when the door opened again and a veterinarian in blue scrubs and a white lab coat entered, smiling automatically at them. “Good morning – afternoon,” he corrected, glancing at the clock. “I hear you’ve brought me a patient and a mystery.” He put down the clipboard he’d been holding and offered his hand to Maria, who was closer. “I’m Doctor Davis.”

“Maria Hill. This is Misty Summers.” Maria gestured towards Misty, but didn’t move out of the way for the doctor to shake her hand. “I appreciate you fitting us in. Thom Shepherd recommended you – said you treat some of his veterans’ dogs.”

“Yup.” The doctor turned his attention to the dog on the table. “And what do we have here?” His voice softened, and he extended a hand to the dog slowly and unthreateningly. “You’re a pretty mix – Rottweiler and lab, I’d guess.”

“That was my guess too,” Misty said, very quietly. She had backed away slightly until her back was against the wall – and the dog had followed her, pressing up against Misty as much as she could from her position on the table.

Maria’s eyebrows furrowed. There wasn’t anything overtly threatening about the man – but then, there hadn’t been about Daniel, either, and he’d set Misty off on Friday. Maria maneuvered herself more firmly between Misty and the doctor. “I pulled her out of a frozen pond – I don’t even know if it was big enough to have a name. Diane Coulson might know if it does. I already got the once-over, but she needs it too… and I’m pretty sure she’s full of puppies.”

Doctor Davis slid his hands down the dog’s sides. “Pretty sure I agree with you, although I’ll order some imaging to be positive. Let me step into the back and get our chip reader – maybe we can get an ID on her.”

He disappeared back out the door, and Misty sagged a little against the wall. At Maria’s concerned look, she shook her head. “I think it’s the white coat,” she said, with a strained smile. “Always hated medical, you know? Doesn’t help that I’m not here for me.” She stroked her hand down the dog. “I’m okay, ducks.”

“If we ask him, I bet he’d take it off,” Maria suggested, smoothing her thumb over the knuckles of Misty’s hand, clasped in her own.

“Take what off?” Doctor Davis asked as he walked back in the room. He sized them up, did some fast deductions, and shucked his white coat. “Hey, it’s no problem,” he assured them with a smile when Misty tried to protest. “I’ve done weirder things than ditch my coat to put a veteran at ease.”

Misty snorted. “Should have known Thom would send us to a vet who knew about triggers.” She didn’t bother to correct his assumption that she was a veteran – explaining she was an active duty federal agent would mean justifying why someone with such obvious triggers as on active duty… and Misty ruthlessly pulled her thoughts away from the idea that she might not be able to return to the field.

“White coat syndrome is real, and it can be serious,” Doctor Davis said absently. He was fiddling with the electronic device in his hand, and made a pleased sound when it hummed to life. “Alright, I’m just gonna run this over you now,” he said to the dog. Maybe they weren’t crazy, Misty thought – he talked to her like she was human, too. 

Several passes of the device later, he sighed. “I don’t think she’s chipped,” he said as he scratched the dog’s ears. “But let me snap a picture, and I’ll see if any of the other vets in the office recognize her. It’s not that big of a town,” he added with a smile. “You guys need anything, or can you hold tight for a few minutes?”

“We’re good,” Maria told him, after a quick look at Misty.

He returned less than ten minutes later, and his expression was tight. Instinctively Misty tried to back up again, and ran into the wall. The dog huddled against her. Doctor Davis saw their reaction and held up a hand, forcing his expression to clear and his body language to soften. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Misty said quietly. “Did you find an answer? Somebody recognize her?”

The doctor paused. “If the answer is no, are you planning to adopt her?”

“I wish we could.” Maria stroked a hand down the black fur, smiling when the dog nudged her hand until it was in exactly the spot she wanted. “We’re visiting from DC, and our jobs aren’t exactly conducive to pets. But… I think she’d wind up living at the Rainbow Inn with the Coulsons.”

Doctor Davis nodded slowly. “Since she’s not chipped, I can’t definitively identify her,” he said hesitantly. “I mean, there’s a lot of lab/rott mixes.”

Misty ran a hand down the dog’s side, feeling the pronounced ribs give way to a belly of pups. “And you don’t want her to go back to wherever she was that let her get this skinny, right?”

“I would never suggest that you keep a dog that legally belongs to someone else,” the doctor said with a smile. “Why don’t we take a look at her pups, and see how she’s doing otherwise?”

As he examined the dog, Maria noticed him slide a scrap of paper to Misty. She hoped it was the name of the dog’s former owner… and not the vet’s phone number.

~ * ~


	30. Chapter 30

Getting the dog back into the SUV was easier – she curled up placidly on the back seat, thumping her tail idly whenever Misty turned back to check on her. Misty fingered the slip of paper thoughtfully.

“Gonna share that with the class?” Maria asked, flicking her eyes at the note.

“Just a name,” Misty said. “I’m guessing he owned the dog… and Doctor Davis doesn’t want her to go back there.”

“He?”

Misty shrugged and read off the name. “Jonathan Larson.”

“We’ll have to ask Diane about him.” But the name sounded familiar, and she couldn’t pin down why.

Misty broached the subject over a late lunch, sliding the note across the table to Phil’s mother. Diane stared at it, not speaking.

“Mama Diane?” Misty prompted gently.

“If that man owned her – no, she’s not going back there.” The way Diane said ‘that man’ sounded like an epithet, Maria thought – and there was no mistaking the conviction in the older woman’s voice. “Alex!”

Misty sat back, startled at the shouted summons. The dog, curled up on her feet under the table, made a small noise and Misty automatically comforted her with one bare foot. “What is it?”

Alex entered the kitchen almost at a run, looking at his wife. “What?”

Diane pointed to the note. “That man owned her, Alex.”

Alex lifted the note, read the name, and cursed – fluently. Maria was idly impressed… she hadn’t heard him exercise his vocabulary yet. “Well. He doesn’t have her anymore – and it sounds like the vet is willing to look the other way. I guess we’re getting a dog,” he said wryly to his wife. “I suppose she’ll belong to the twins.”

“Wait.” Maria held up a hand. “Who is that man, and why are you both so…”

“Angry?” Misty finished for her. She reached one hand under the table for the dog, and the other slid into Maria’s.

“We’re not angry at you, lovey,” Diane assured her immediately. Her eyes flickered to Maria’s when she used the nickname, but there was no reaction to it this time. “This man, he… well. Our family has had… interactions… with him in the past.”

Diane’s hesitance to explain got the gears turning in Maria’s head, and it wasn’t long before she realized – “Jonathan Larson. The Mr. Larson that we’ve heard had an altercation with Nat and Catriona at Christmas? That man?” At Diane’s nod, Maria cursed – just as fluently as Alex. “No, she’s not going back there.”

“He’s cruel, but I don’t know that he did this intentionally,” Alex objected. All three women in the room turned to glare at him, and he held up his hands in defense. “I’m not saying that makes it okay, but we don’t actually know that he abused her – just that she’s been neglected.”

“Is she healthy otherwise?” Diane asked.

Misty dug her fingers deeper into the dog’s soft fur. “Yeah. Her, and all five puppies.” When that comment set off another spate of cursing from both Alex and Maria, Misty forced a smile. “Better get it all out of your systems now. The girls will be home from school soon.”

“They’ve heard it before,” Diane replied, her tone dry and tolerant. “Usually it’s a supplier mix-up or a bad review, but…”

“Mmm. Sensei calls them power words, when he uses them in the garage.” Misty picked up a cookie from the tray in the middle of the table – there was always food out here, it seemed. “Apparently, using them makes bolts unstick or something. That’s his excuse, anyway.”

“He still does that?” Diane chuckled. “I remember him trying to convince me of that when he was sixteen, and first working on Lola.”

Misty grinned. “Still does it. I can count on one hand – maybe two – the number of times I’ve heard Agent Coulson swear… but when it’s sensei and Lola? All bets are off.”

The banter calmed Maria – as Misty had hoped – and she found herself relaxing back into the chair, one hand still clasping Misty’s. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain her reaction to anyone – she shouldn’t already be emotionally invested in the dog. But the knowledge that the same man that had confronted her clansister had starved – or at least, not prevented the starvation – of the sweet dog at her feet made her angrier than she knew what to do with. “What are the chances that he’ll find out? And what would he do, if he did?” Maria asked finally, when she thought she could keep her voice level.

Alex’s expression hardened. “No one will tell him,” he said – and Misty’s back straightened in instinctive response to the Agent-Coulson-Is-In-Charge tone. “If he guesses – well, if she’s not chipped, there’s no proving it.”

Sensei’s willingness to lie to protect CJ abruptly made more sense to Misty. 

~ * ~

“She’s really ours?” Lily repeated from the floor, where she was stroking the dog.

“If you want her,” Sarah said, smiling.

Rose rolled her eyes – out of Sarah’s sight. “We do.” She crouched down next to her sister and the dog. “You need a name,” she told the dog, who thumped her tail against the floor.

“Lucky?” Misty suggested.

Lily snorted. “That’s a boy dog name.” She laid down behind the dog and wrapped an arm around the thin ribs – in a position Misty recognized as one she’d been subjected to, too. “She should have a flower name. To go with ours… and Momma’s.”

“I vote for a Disney name,” Rose objected, flopping on the floor next to her twin.

Maria watched them bicker, unaware that there was a small smile on her face. They were good girls, she thought. They may not be Coulsons by blood, but they shared a lot of traits with Phil – most of the traits that she really admired. Rose would make a hell of an agent, Maria realized – and wondered. Was that the direction the right-handed twin was headed in?

Goddess, it would be fun to train the girl. She was snarky, true – but it was never mean-spirited. And her gut said the girl was a natural fighter… probably would take to it like a duck to water. Like Sam had, really – maybe more so, depending on what path Gaia intended for her. If she was supposed to be a Warrior… well, Maria would do everything in her power to make sure Rose was trained for just such an eventuality.

Lily, on the other hand… the thought of Lily in the ring against an opponent turned her stomach. Sure, she was tough – and no matter what path she was destined for, Maria was determined that she at least learn self-defense – but she didn’t have the same sharp edges as her twin. She wasn’t soft, just… softer.

“Aunt Maria!” 

Maria shifted her attention to the twins, raising an eyebrow. “No need to yell.”

Misty elbowed her, grinning. “They’ve called you three times, ducks.”

Maria made a face. She hadn’t realized she was that tuned out. “What is it, Lil?”

“What’s your favorite Disney movie?”

“Mulan,” Maria said automatically. “Why?”

Misty leaned over to whisper to her. “They’re still fighting over a name for the dog.”

“There aren’t any flower names in that one,” Rose protested.

“Sure there are.” Lily rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. “Her dad puts a flower in her hair, right? What kind of flower is it?”

“If you can’t remember the name, it doesn’t count,” Rose snarked.

Misty rolled her eyes. “Too bad we can’t call her Mushu. She’d be a good dragon guardian.”

“Wait.” Rose rolled onto her stomach and looked up at Maria. “You know the movie pretty good?”

“Pretty well, yes. Why?”

“What’s your favorite part?”

Maria leaned her head against the back of the couch and tucked Misty closer to her. “Mulan kicking ass, of course.” The twins executed identical eye rolls, which made Misty snicker. “Honestly, anything Mushu says. He makes me laugh.” 

“Too bad his sidekick is a cricket and not a grasshopper,” Misty murmured.

Rose had continued to look at Maria thoughtfully. “You know any Mushu lines?” At Maria’s puzzled nod, she added, “You saved her. I think you should get to help name her.”

“Umm… Dishonor on your whole family! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow,” Maria recited dutifully. “I’m travel size for your convenience. Did you see those Huns? They popped outta the snow, like daisies! Dragon, not lizard – ”

“Daisy!” Lily repeated, pointing at Maria, who recoiled instinctively. “It’s a flower name and it’s from a Disney movie.” The dog thumped her tail against the floor. “And she likes it.”

“And it’s kinda appropriate… she didn’t pop out of the snow, but Aunt Maria did pull her out of the cold…” Rose mused, scratching the dog’s ears. “Any objections?”

Maria wasn’t sure if she was asking the room at large, or the dog.

“Daisy it is, then,” Lily announced triumphantly, and wrapped her arm around the dog again.

~ * ~


	31. Chapter 31

“Sarah?” Maria waited until after the girls had gone to bed – with Daisy in tow – before approaching their mom. “Can I have a word?” Misty raised an eyebrow at Maria, but didn’t comment as she headed up to bed.

Sarah exchanged a look with Iris. They had been sitting together on the loveseat in the living room – both reading, although entirely different subject material. At Maria’s request, Sarah put a bookmark in place and handed the volume to Iris. “Sure.”

She followed Maria into the now-empty kitchen and sat down where Maria gestured. Maria started to sit down. “Wait, I’ll make tea. This is a tea kind of conversation.”

Sarah watched her move about the kitchen. “You strike me more as a coffee woman.”

“Normally, yeah. But it’s late, and I don’t want to keep bunny up,” she answered absently. “You okay with the clan blend?”

Maria caught the eye-roll – so like one of the twins that it was uncanny – out of the corner of her vision. “If that’s what you’re having, sure,” Sarah agreed, waving a hand to indicate it didn’t matter.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Maria said, setting a mug down in front of Sarah. She took her own seat, but looked down into the depths of tea instead of making eye contact with the other woman. “I mean, you basically wound up with a dog because of me.”

“I wound up with a dog because Jonathan Larson is a fuckwad that shouldn’t be allowed to share oxygen on this planet,” Sarah said candidly. “And because nobody in this family – and that includes you – can stand to see an innocent creature suffer.”

“So… the saving-people-thing is all Coulsons, not just Phil?” Maria asked, one corner of her lips twitching.

“Every last one of us,” Sarah said firmly. “The blood Coulsons, the adopted Coulson, the in-laws – and the honorary ones.” She flapped a hand vaguely at Maria. “And whatever it is you consider you and your clan.”

“I… uhh… get the feeling that you wouldn’t put us in the same category I would,” Maria said carefully. “I’m not as observant as Phil – or Misty – but I can’t help but notice you’re a little… umm…”

Sarah lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Less enthusiastic?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Maybe I don’t like the freaky voodoo that comes with it,” Sarah said quietly.

Maria leaned back in her chair. “You include Catriona in that definition? Freaky voodoo?” Sarah didn’t answer. “Look, I’m not trying to pry here – ” Sarah snorted and raised her eyebrow again. “Yeah, okay. I’m prying. So sue me. But this is my family, Sarah. And I don’t like that you’re so… what the hell did Catriona do to piss you off?” She thought back to what Rose and Lily had said about their mama mojo. “Is this about Lily’s Gift?”

Sarah’s gaze sharpened on her. “What the hell do you know about it?”

“Lily told me.” Maria swirled the tea in her mug. “Told both of us. She could see… she could figure out what happened to Misty, and it kind of freaked all of us out. We had a talk… and a cuddle.”

“Twin cuddles are pretty magical,” Sarah agreed automatically, but she was still staring at Maria. “So her voodoo freaked you out, too?”

Maria’s eyes jumped to Sarah’s in shock. “No!” She shook her head to emphasize the point. “No, the fact that she figured out Misty was raped – that’s what threw us. We weren’t ready to tell people, you know? Misty’d honestly prefer if nobody knew, but… and then for the girls to know…” Maria trailed off, hoping Sarah would assume that Lily had told her twin, not that Rose had other means of figuring it out. “Does… does her voodoo freak you out?”

“Sure as hell does.” Sarah looked down into her mug. “My daughter’s a human mood ring, and you don’t think that freaks me out? The fucking Earth Goddess has spoken to her, and a two-thousand-year-old Priestess wants to give her private lessons, and you don’t think I’m freaked out?” Her voice had risen as she spoke, until Maria was afraid she’d wake the other inhabitants of the Inn. 

“One of my best friends can kill people with her thighs,” Maria said quietly. Her gaze returned to the depths of her teacup, not sure she had the strength to speak if she had to make eye contact. “Another can read body language so well she might as well be telepathic. Another can shoot the eye out of a sparrow at a thousand yards and make it look easy.” She raised her eyes to Sarah’s. “Couple of those are Gaia augmented now, but they weren’t always.” She paused. “It’s just a skill, Sarah. A big one, yeah – one that needs training, and is unusual, but… it’s just a skill. Please don’t hate her – or us – for it.”

“Are you suggesting I hate my daughter?” Sarah’s voice had dropped to a depth Maria recognized from her stepmother – the danger zone. 

Experience with that tone had her pausing, choosing her words carefully. “Whether you do or not, you’re doing a pretty good job of acting like it.” She took advantage of Sarah’s gaping speechlessness to continue. “Every time you speak against Catriona – or any of the rest of this freaky druid voodoo crap – you push your daughters away.” Maria took a long sip of tea, savoring the hint of raspberries… and the reminder that someone in this world cared enough to blend a tea just for their clan. “It’s hard enough being different, without also being made aware, every day, of how much your family hates that difference.”

And before Sarah could respond – or Maria could say something she couldn’t take back – Maria drained her cup and left the kitchen.

~ * ~

By the time she reached the door of the Yellow Room, she was shaking.

“Ducks?” Misty was out of bed in a heartbeat, reaching for Maria. “What happened?”

Maria reported – as thoroughly and dispassionately as she would have to Director Fury – as she stood trembling in their bedroom. Misty kept her hands on Maria’s upper arms, gently supporting her, smoothing her thumbs across the muscles there. “Tell me I didn’t fuck up, bunny,” Maria begged when she’d finished her recitation. “Tell me I didn’t just break Phil’s family.”

“You didn’t, ducks.” Misty drew her close – this time, it was Maria burying her head in Misty’s shoulder… and the blonde could understand why Maria welcomed it, because it made her feel very tender towards the woman in her arms. “You told her something she needed to hear, and something probably no one else could tell her.” Misty stroked her hands down Maria’s dark hair, wishing she dared press a kiss to the side of her head. “Will it be a little awkward? Probably… but you did what needed to be done, Maria. I promise you that.”

Neither woman knew how long they stood there, but it was some time before Maria could pull away long enough to change into her pajamas and join her bunny in bed. She clung – and knew she was clinging – and for once, felt no guilt or shame for it. 

“How is it,” Misty asked into the darkness, “I can miss the weight of Daisy on our feet, when she only spent a night in our room?”

“I don’t know, but I miss her too,” Maria admitted. “Makes me understand therapy dogs a little more. Always thought it was kind of weird, but… I get it now.” Maria nuzzled her nose into Misty’s hair – caught herself doing it and forced herself to stop. “You want me to go get her from the twins’ room?”

She did, but not enough to disrupt the twins, or confuse Daisy. “It’s okay.” Misty tucked herself closer to Maria. “What made you decide to confront Sarah? I thought you were just going to apologize for saddling her with Daisy.”

“You say ‘decide’ like I’d given it any thought,” Maria said dryly. “I wasn’t planning it. I just… I had to say something.”

“If you hadn’t thought of it, why did you want to talk to Sarah alone?”

That stumped Maria, and she considered it as she ran her fingers through Misty’s hair. “Maybe I was spoiling for a fight after all.”

“Any chance you got a push?” Misty asked delicately. “From Big Mama… or one of the girls? They’re unhappy enough with the situation that… maybe they’d have a way to nudge you.”

“That’s… terrifying,” Maria admitted. She burrowed closer to Misty. “I don’t think it would have been the girls, not today. They’ve got Daisy-brain.” But the Goddess… would She have intervened? 

Misty’s arms tightened around Maria as the older woman started to tremble again. “Deep breaths, ducks. Tell me why that scares you so bad.”

Maria forced her breathing to steady at Misty’s command. “I just… don’t like the idea that I’ve been manipulated. Even by Her.” Didn’t like wasn’t a strong enough phrase… but the tightness of Misty’s arms around her suggested that her bunny was well aware of that.

“Maybe it’s more clan voodoo?” Misty ran her hand down Maria’s back, pausing to soothe a knot in the muscles between her shoulder blades. She’d meant the suggestion to be soothing, but from the tautness of those muscles, it didn’t appear to be helping.

“I think I’d like to be able to tell the difference between clan voodoo and regular feelings,” Maria murmured into Misty’s hair. Like the ones she had for Misty – feelings she refused to put names on, because they were overwhelming… but that she couldn’t deny.

“Oh.” Misty shifted a little, pulling Maria’s head in a little tighter to her neck. “Yeah, that makes sense. I kind of feel like that about my freak outs – how much of it is baseline Misty-neurosis and how much is due to the rape?”

“You aren’t neurotic.” The protest was automatic, but no less heartfelt for its instinctive nature. “Or at least, no more so than the average SHIELD agent.”

Misty’s lips curved in a smile where they pressed against Maria’s hair. “Not making your case very well there, ducks.” Maria snorted. “I guess it doesn’t really matter why you talked to Sarah… just that you did. Now we wait and see how it shakes out… but you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I feel like I should call Phil tomorrow, lay it out for him.” She wasn’t happy about it, but he deserved to know. 

“Tomorrow’s fine, but not Wednesday.” Misty fidgeted, which only served to draw Maria’s eyes out of her hair and to her face. “Wednesday’s Valentine’s Day, ducks. Let the triad have it in peace.”

Fuck. She’d managed to forget that. Groaning, she buried her head in Misty’s blonde hair again. “Yeah, okay.” 

As they drifted off to sleep, Maria found herself wondering if Diane knew the etiquette for how to celebrate Valentine’s Day with your more than best friend, recently traumatized, incredibly precious bunny.

~ * ~


	32. Chapter 32

Maria did not want to leave the Yellow Room Tuesday morning.

She didn’t want to put on a friendly face for the other Inn patrons.

She didn’t want to run into Sarah and have an awkward – or explosive – conversation about last night.

She definitely didn’t want to run into the twins – because the flower girls would take one Gifted look at her, and know she wasn’t okay.

Maria groaned and pressed her face into the pillow. Misty chuckled sleepily and slung an arm around her. “Feeling antisocial, ducks?”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t any point in denying it – Misty could read her damned near as well as the twins could, even without the benefit of Gaia gifts. “I don’t think I can face the family right now, bunny.”

Misty levered herself up on her elbow and smiled fondly at Maria. She wanted to lean over and plant a kiss on that lovely face – but she resisted. “I’ll go down and get us something.”

“You don’t have to – I didn’t mean – ” Maria protested.

“I know.” Misty smile widened, and she indulged herself by touching Maria’s cheek gently. “You’ve been taking care of me, ducks. Let me take a turn.”

It was hard to argue with that – especially when the idea that Misty wanted to take care of her made Maria feel a little giddy. “Yeah, okay.” She managed to control the tightness in her throat – she thought.

Misty’s smile turned into a mischievous grin as she slid out of bed. “Besides, if I go down by myself, I can pump Diane for information about how Sarah’s handling it.” She winked cheekily at Maria and disappeared out the door as the older agent groaned and thumped her head on the pillow.

She hadn’t bothered to dress – her rubber duckie pajamas covered all of the important parts, and it wasn’t like she was body shy… even after what had happened.

Misty had forgotten, though, that the ‘breakfast’ part of ‘bed and breakfast’ meant that the kitchen and dining room were full of people. She recognized the Turners, Jeran and Daniel, as well as Martin and Larry – but there were unfamiliar people as well. Her breath hitched briefly when all eyes turned to her, and she sought out the security of Alex’s gaze.

Alex had been standing at the stove manning the bacon, and upon seeing Misty enter he snagged one of the stools from the kitchen island and placed it near the stove – but out of grease splatter range. “Good morning, Misty.” He gestured to the stool and she sat, still feeling nervous. He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I didn’t expect to see you down here… usually your Maria braves the crowd.”

“She’s hiding,” Misty murmured. The kiss wasn’t exactly unexpected – Alex had done it before – but she hadn’t really thought he’d do it in front of so many people. Wasn’t he worried about what they’d think? 

“Ah.” Alex checked two slices of bacon and, finding them suitable, dropped them onto a paper-towel covered plate and handed it to Misty. “What would you two like for breakfast?”

Misty plucked one of the bacon slices off the plate and crunched into it, heedless of the heat. Alex made the best damned bacon – better than sensei’s, even. “Whatever you’re making is fine.” She was glad that the guests at the table were ignoring them – glad that Diane was busy playing the hostess. Alex had a way of making her feel like she was the only person in the room… certainly the most important.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’ll be making whatever it is you want,” he said mildly. “It’s not as though you’re going to ask for Peking duck or something.”

The shudder was involuntary. “No.”

Alex’s brow furrowed, and then he chuckled wryly. “Sorry. It was just the most complicated dish I could think of off the top of my head.” He flashed her a smile. “I expect it’ll be a cold day in Hell before you eat that particular fowl for dinner… probably as likely as Maria is, to eat rabbit.”

“I never really cared for it anyway,” Misty replied as she bit into the second piece of bacon. “I don’t know that I’m hungry for anything particular. What’s easy?” When he started to protest, she shook her head. “Really. If you’re already halfway ready with something, I pick that. It’s too early to argue about it.”

He ruffled her hair with the hand not holding the spatula. “Alright. Bacon and eggs, omelettes, breakfast burritos – any of those are easy. I’ve got the stuff for Eggs Benedict, but it would take longer. I’ve been serving mostly omelettes this morning,” he added, glancing at the dining table.

“Omelettes work,” Misty agreed. “Maria doesn’t care for green peppers, but anything else is pretty much fair game.” She watched as he cracked eggs one-handed into a mixing bowl. “How come you’re in here, and Mama Diane is out there?” She gestured vaguely at the guests.

“Diane makes a better hostess than I do.” He smiled at her. “That, and she prefers to bake rather than cook. I’ll turn the kitchen back over to her for the afternoon, and she’ll make bread and a few other treats.” 

“Can I put in a request for brownies?” Misty asked wistfully. “I’ve had her recipe once – Nat made them – and they’re so good.”

Diane, returning to the kitchen with an empty coffee carafe, chuckled and kissed Misty’s forehead just as her husband had. “Request received. I’ll put a pan or two in.” She traded her empty carafe for the full one on the coffee pot and gestured with it to Misty. “Or tea?” she added, seeing Misty’s indecision.

“Tea would be great.” Misty smiled as Diane took out a mug, dropped a sachet of tea in it, and started the electric kettle. “Catriona stocked you up too, apparently?”

“She did – brought by a big box of various teas a few weeks ago.” Diane added the spoonful of sugar that she knew Misty preferred before pouring the boiling water and handing the mug carefully to Misty. “I had a lovely chat with her.”

“Chat with anyone else lately?” Misty asked, then wanted to kick herself. That wasn’t exactly subtly – she blamed lack of caffeine.

Diane gave her a measured look. “If you mean did my daughter and I discuss the conversation she had with Maria last night… yes, we did.” She glanced at Alex. “We all did – her father and I, and Iris. The girls inadvertently caught the tail end of our… discussion.”

Misty slumped on her stool. “Crap. How mad is everybody at ducks? She didn’t mean to hurt anyone—”

“No one is mad at Maria,” Alex said firmly. “Sarah might act like it – but she’s using anger to cover up the fact that she knows damned well that your Maria is right.”

Diane shot her husband a look. They’d agreed before not to mention this not-quite-romantic-relationship between Misty and Maria, and using the term ‘your Maria’ seemed like crossing a line… but Misty didn’t appear to notice it.

“She’ll be glad – and shocked as hell – to hear that,” Misty said on the end of a sigh. “I told her she hadn’t said anything that didn’t need to be said but… well, she needs to hear it from you guys, I guess.”

“I had to talk very fast to keep the twins from waking her up this morning before school,” Diane admitted with a smile. “It’s entirely possible that last night pushed Aunt Maria ahead of Aunt Natasha in the bad-ass-aunt Olympics.”

That surprised a laugh out of Misty, and she found herself grinning foolishly at Diane and Alex. “That’s… really awesome.” Unfortunately, her laughter had drawn the attention of the people still sitting at the dining room table, and the scrutiny made her nervous.

Misty looked down into the mug, using it to hide her subtle observation of the other guests. She should go say hello, at least to the people she’d been introduced to… but it was so nice to sit here in the kitchen with Phil’s parents and feel… loved.

Between the two of them, it was only a few more minutes before Alex and Diane presented Misty with a laden breakfast tray – two omelettes, lots of bacon, toast, coffee, tea, orange juice – “Great Good Goddess, Mama Diane, I’m going to have to go up a uniform size if I stay here much longer!” Misty exclaimed, taking the heaping tray.

Diane laughed. “You’ll work it off, lovey. I’m sure of that. Run along now.”

This time, the kisses to her forehead – one from each parent – didn’t surprise her. She offered a shy cheek kiss to each of them before disappearing back upstairs to the Yellow Room, and her ducks.

~ * ~

Maria waited until Misty had left the room before she picked up her phone and dialed Phil. She knew she wouldn’t wake him – he was probably already elbow deep in SHIELD files – and she wanted to get this conversation over with as soon as possible.

“Coulson,” he answered absently.

“Any chance this could be a conversation between laoch scail and treorai?” Maria asked, managing to contain the quiver in her voice.

On the other end, she could hear a door shut – and a deadbolt slide home. “I’m all ears, Ria. What’s wrong?”

Maria slumped down against the headboard of the bed. “I had a conversation with your sister last night, and I’m filling you in… in the interest of full disclosure… in case you want to tell me off.” As dispassionately as she’d reported it to Misty the night before, Maria repeated everything she could remember about her conversation with Sarah. “I think I fucked up, chief,” she admitted quietly. “Bunny swears I didn’t, but—”

“You should listen to the grasshopper,” Phil advised. “I don’t think you said anything that didn’t need to be said. Clint and Nat and I all wanted to say something at Christmas but… it wasn’t time, yet.” He’d known the situation was deteriorating – he’d been getting plaintive emails from both flower girls, and concerned updates from his mother. He hadn’t known what to do – and Catriona had asked him not to interfere unless he had to.

Thankfully, she hadn’t thought to ask the same of Maria.

“How mad is Sarah likely to be? And… is she vindictive?”

Phil paused to take a sip of his coffee. “Right now, she’s probably furious – she’s got a hell of a temper. Didn’t get Mom’s or Dad’s, it comes from our Grandma Nettie, Dad’s mom. Thankfully, she burns hot – but fast. She’ll get past the mad and start thinking. The thinking part happens sooner, now that she’s married to Iris,” he added. “I’d give her some space today, but by evening she’ll probably be resigned to the fact that you’re right – though I doubt she’ll admit it.”

Relief flood Maria. “So I didn’t fuck up your family?” she asked softly.

“You didn’t – and it’s your family too, Ria.” His voice was gentle but firm. “My mother has informed me that even if something colossal happens to sever our clan, she’s keeping you and Misty.”

“Well, who wouldn’t want to keep bunny?” Maria said automatically, and flinched. She knew Phil would read into that – and was surprised that their chief chose to let that comment lie.

“How is Misty? Physically? Is she going to be ready to be back on duty on Friday?”

Maria bit her lip. “Physically, she’s fine. We haven’t done much physical training, but… well, she bounces back fast. Emotionally…”

“Still having panic attacks?”

“Fewer,” Maria sighed. “But yeah. She seems to be able to see them coming better – and we’ve been able to head off a few.” But she didn’t know how her bunny would react, if one of those attacks happened when Maria wasn’t around. “I don’t know, chief. She’ll tell you she’s fine and ready to go back to work.”

Phil made a noncommittal noise. “But you’re not?”

Maria grunted. “Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass, that you can practically read minds.” He chuckled but didn’t answer. “I’d feel a lot better if she wasn’t in the field,” Maria admitted. “In-house stuff, with the Scoobies – knowing she’s got family close – and I know she’d skin me alive if she heard me say that, but… I don’t know if I can concentrate, if I know she’s out in the field.” She banged her head back against the headboard. “She’s downstairs in the kitchen with your parents, and I’m worrying.”

“If it makes you feel any less like you’re overreacting, I’m having a similar internal debate,” Phil said dryly. “I want her safe where I can see her, preferably surrounded by her squadmates and doing nothing more dangerous than medbay duty.”

“She’ll kick both our asses if we try that.”

“It’s not just about her.” Phil cleared his throat. “You and I aren’t the only ones feeling protective, Ria. Chuck’s already been by, asking if they can have a week of tactical training. Lance suggested I put her in for some intensive training courses – not the honey trap training,” he added hastily, “but maybe advanced surveillance or asset handling. Something that would put her in a classroom for a while.”

“How about CJ?” The sharpshooter seemed to be the one with the best grasp of Misty’s state of mind, though Maria didn’t entirely understand why.

Phil snorted. “He told me that she’d flay both of us with a butter knife if we tried it, and that if the rest of us couldn’t handle her in the field, it was on us.” He’d used a lot more colorful language to describe the situation – CJ had very strong opinions about how to treat Misty. “But he did admit it was a problem, so he suggested something similar to Chuck’s… a week of in-house assignments, based on the less than stellar scores the team has racked up while Misty’s been out. It’s at least an action that wouldn’t be out of character for me to order – making sure the squad was cohesive before assigning anything more strenuous.”

A knot unwound in Maria’s chest, and she blew out a long breath. “Yeah, that would – that would be good.”

The door to the Yellow Room opened, and Misty entered laden with a breakfast tray, and followed by Daisy. “That sensei?” she asked, nodding her head at the phone in Maria’s hand.

“Yeah. Hang on, Phil, let me put you on speaker. Bunny just came in with breakfast.”

“Morning, grasshopper. What’s on the menu this morning?”

Misty settled the tray on the bed next to Maria as the dog clambered up the footstool – Maria only now realizing the girls hadn’t taken it with them. Well, their beds weren’t as high, she reasoned – and accepted the dog’s enthusiastic greeting. “Your dad made omelettes. And bacon. I might be a little bit in love with your parents,” Misty confessed with mock solemnity.

Phil laughed. “It’s okay, I’ll share.”

“I might not give them back,” she teased, biting down on a piece of bacon. “You already tell him about your epic showdown last night?” Maria nodded. “Mama Diane says you’re neck and neck with Natasha in the bad-ass-aunt Olympics. Apparently, the only reason we didn’t get a flower girl wake-up call was because she got to them first.”

“They’re not mad?” Maria couldn’t seem to grasp that – she’d accused Sarah of hating her daughter… accused a Coulson of being close-minded and a bad parent. Surely they couldn’t all just…

“Not mad,” Misty confirmed. “Would Papa Alex have made you a very special cheese-and-mushroom-and-ham omelette if he were mad?”

“Probably not,” Maria agreed, prodding the omelette with her fork. “Ooo, yum.”

“You eat mushrooms in your omelette?” Phil asked with only partially mock-horror. “Ria, how could you?”

She smirked at Misty before she answered. “Hey, it’s the only fungi I’ll ever have in me.”

There was a pause while Phil parsed the pun – and then he burst into full-chested laughter. Maria grinned around a mouthful of omelette. She loved to make Phil laugh. 

~ * ~


	33. Chapter 33

“So… got a plan for the day?” Maria asked Misty. They’d finished breakfast – sharing tiny bites with Daisy – and stacked the tray on one of the side tables before curling back up together, the dog on the comforter across their feet.

“Do I need one beyond this?” Misty asked drowsily. She was warm and comfortable – well fed on Coulson cooking, with the weight of Daisy on her feet. 

The sleepy contentment in Misty’s voice made Maria’s heartstrings tug, and she smiled against the blonde hair. “Nope. You doze, I’ll read.” She reached for her phone on the night stand and opened an e-book – one she had been meaning to finish, but hadn’t gotten around to it.

All three were jolted into consciousness an hour or so later by the trilling of a phone – not the one in Maria’s hand, but the one on Misty’s night stand. Sighing, the blonde tugged away from Maria to reach for it. Glancing at the display, she made a face. “Hey, Chuck.”

Chuck cleared his throat – noisily, and Misty rolled her eyes. “Hey, Buffy.” There was a long pause, and then he began to chuckle – that rollicking noise they’d nicknamed him for. “Sorry, I promised myself I wouldn’t be awkward, and I didn’t even make it past the greetings.” He’d given his word to more than himself – he’d sworn to both Phil and his mother that he’d make the situation better instead of worse. He was off to a bang-up start so far.

“Nothing new there, Chuckles,” Misty said dryly. She set the phone to speaker and rested it on the bed between her and Maria. “You’ve got both of us – and Daisy. What’s up?”

“Daisy?” His surprise was almost comical. Who the hell was Daisy? He knew that wasn’t one of the flower girls – those were different flowers. Rose and something. Lily. Yeah.

“The dog I rescued from the ice Sunday.” Maria ran a hand down the dark, blunt head as was rewarded with a lazy thump of a tail against the comforter. “Don’t let her furry highness distract you.”

Chuck sighed reluctantly – he’d rather discuss the random appearance of a dog in the conversation than his actual purpose for calling… which Maria damn well knew. “Yeah. So, Buffy – Misty – ” It felt wrong to use her call-name for this conversation; felt like using her work name forced him to keep her at a reserve. “I did a thing yesterday, at the chief’s suggestion.”

“Following sensei’s suggestions is usually a good plan.”

“Yeah. Well. This one was really simple… he suggested I count the number of times in a day I turned to ask you a question, or really wished you were there to do some paperwork, or thought about texting you.” Chuck grunted. “I thought it was a stupid touchy-feely crap suggestion at first.” He paused again. “I quit counting when I hit fifty, and it wasn’t even time to clock out yet.” It hadn’t even been lunchtime. “So… this is me, apologizing for being a dumbass and not realizing how much the squad needs you. I need you. And I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole.”

Misty was stunned – and a little choked up. Damn, she was tired of her emotions being wonky. “I love you anyway. You’re forgiven. Even for the aggravated assholery charge,” she teased, hoping the light tone would disguise her emotional response. 

Maria had jolted at Misty’s first words – glad that Misty’s eyes were on Daisy, and not on her. Surely there was nothing between her bunny and Chuckles?

“Hey, cut it out with the love crap, Buffy,” Chuck said with a laugh. “You’ll make people talk.”

“I can tell my kin I love them if I want to.” Misty looked up, caught the expression on Maria’s face and raised an eyebrow. “I can’t decide if you’re my big brother or annoying older cousin. I mean, I’ve already got one overbearing older cousin – do I really need another?”

“Either one is more than I deserve.” Chuck sighed again. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have needed to go to Wisconsin to feel safe, Buff. I hate like hell that we – I – couldn’t be a safe haven for you. Means I’m doing a shit job being both your team second and your clanmate, and I want to do better.” He paused, letting out a wry laugh. “That, and I never want to get dressed down by CJ or Lance again.”

Misty hummed. “It’s always the quiet ones you’ve got to watch. I hope like hell we never see CJ really let loose that anger of his – he could be as lethal as nascha.”

“Amen.” Chuck blew out another breath. The glimpses he’d seen of the fury CJ was hiding were enough to give him nightmares. He knew the kid had a rough past – it was hard not to notice, given he was the only teammate with any kind of physical boundaries left – but he didn’t know the specifics… and based on what he’d seen, he didn’t want to know. “When you get back, Buff… I want us to do some team-building crap. The stuff I usually scoff at, you know? If something like you being attacked could fracture us this bad…” He trailed off, thinking of CJ’s explosion over supper at the dojo, and of the series of accusatory text messages from Lance. “Look, I know I give you crap over the fuzzy psychological shit and all, but I think you’re right. We need to… I don’t know… it sounds stupid to say we need to bond, because we’ve got this druid clan thing, but – ”

“No, I get it.” Misty’s voice was gentle – she wasn’t going to lord her victory over him, because she wished like hell he’d been right and she’d been wrong. “We skimped on the trust foundation, thinking the clan thing would fill in the cracks – but I think we actually need more foundation work, not less.” She reached for Maria’s hand, idly twining their fingers together. “I didn’t run to Wisconsin because I didn’t trust my team, Chuck. I need you to understand that. I don’t remember making the choice – but I know damned well that wasn’t why. I’d trust any of you with my life – would, and do.”

Chuck was pretty sure he knew why she’d run to Wisconsin – or more accurately, why she’d run to Maria. He’d bet three months pay that Misty’d been raped and couldn’t face a man – and that she ran straight to the woman she loved.

But he damned well wasn’t going to say that.

He was an asshole – not an idiot.

“I don’t know if it matters,” he said instead, and cleared his throat again. Damn, but talking about feelings made him tongue-tied. “But. The feeling’s mutual. I’d put my life in your hands any day. Either of your hands,” he added, remembering Maria’s presence.

“It matters,” Misty murmured. “Of course it matters, cumainn.” His Gaelic name slipped out without conscious decision on her part – she didn’t have any other name for him that conveyed the sense of kinship she was feeling. 

Maria tugged Misty closer to her – not that they’d been far apart to begin with – and smoothed her hand down the soft, blonde hair. She didn’t know how to say what she was really thinking without it coming out wrong – that she already trusted Chuck with her bunny, and there was no higher form of regard for her. But that edged too close to saying things she wasn’t ready to say – or think – so she brushed it aside. “I’m not going to use the l-word, but I trust you at our backs too,” she settled on.

Chuck barked out a surprised laugh. “Never thought you’d use it, Hill. Maria.” He paused, hoping that hadn’t come out as rude or insensitive. Maria’s snort reassured him. “Instead of long declarations of emotions, how about you give me a play-by-play of this dog rescue you mentioned?”

~ * ~

“You know,” Misty said into the silence later, “eventually, you have to leave the bedroom.”

Maria tried to scowl at her, but all she could manage was a fond grimace. “I know.” After ending the call with Chuck, they’d returned to their silent companionship – though Misty had chosen to read rather than doze again. “I know I’m not usually one for avoiding confrontation…”

Misty snorted and elbowed her. “Yes, you are. You just normally do it with more agility than this.” Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Usually you do the ‘water flowing around a stone’ kind of avoidance, and this is more ‘stone burying itself in sand to avoid water.’”

“You calling me an ostrich?” Maria rolled herself up onto her elbow, not bothering to hide her smile.

“Yup. Except that’s a mouthful, so I’ll stick with ducks.” Misty trailed a finger down the comforter, idly tracing the design. “I told you what Diane and Alex said – no one blames you for what you said to Sarah.”

“Except me.”

Rolling her eyes, Misty jabbed the finger she’d been fidgeting with into Maria’s ribcage. “If you insist on self-flagellation, I will tickle you into submission.”

Laughing, Maria recoiled from the finger. “Alright, alright.” She flinched away when Misty continued to poke – and how the blonde knew her ticklish spots already, Maria wasn’t sure. “I concede! We can leave the room!” 

Misty grinned at her, and Maria felt a surge of affection rise up and nearly swamp her. “I knew you’d see it my way.” Misty slid out of bed and stretched, reaching for her slippers and a sweatshirt. “Besides, I’m hungry.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, or Diane will magically appear with cookies,” Maria drawled. She pulled on slippers as well, and a well-worn flannel shirt. At Misty’s raised eyebrow, she flushed. “Yes, I stole it from Phil.”

“You steal clothes from all of them, don’t you?” Misty’s smile was amused – and fond. She’d seen the t-shirt of Clint’s, and a pair of Natasha’s shoes… one of the Marine Corps sweatshirts that Maria had tucked in her bag was large enough to have come from Chuck, and there were a few other items Misty thought she’d seen on their clanmates.

Maria’s shoulders hunched defensively. “Not always. Just…”

“Just when you’re being sent away, and need the reminder?” Misty asked softly, coming around the bed to wrap Maria in a hug. “You know sensei sent you here so that you wouldn’t have to be alone – so that you wouldn’t feel like you were in exile.” She brushed Maria’s hair back from her face. “You needed to be away from SHIELD, but safe… so he sent you to the safest place he knows.”

“I know.” Maria pressed her cheek against Misty’s hair and closed her eyes. “Goddess, it feels like a lifetime ago. I don’t think I’m the same woman I was when I cleaned Verley’s clock.”

“You aren’t.” Misty wanted to tilt her head up and kiss Maria, but she held herself in check. This… openness, this whatever-they-had that was between them was too fragile for that. And, she admitted to herself – she’d never survive a rejection, if the kiss wasn’t welcome. Better to remain in this vaguely undefined middle ground between best friend and something more than to lose her ducks altogether. “It’s funny, isn’t it, how much can change in so short a time?”

Maria’s arms tightened around Misty – almost painfully. “Yeah.” She wasn’t thinking of her own changes, then. Abruptly conscious of how closely she was holding Misty, Maria relaxed her arms. “Let’s go get you something to eat.” Before Maria could pull away entirely, Misty slid her hand into the senior agent’s, giving her a small smile. 

They were still hand-in-hand when they entered the kitchen, and Maria refused to feel embarrassed about it, despite the eyes that flickered to their hands before returning to conversations. The room wasn’t empty… she hadn’t really expected it to be. Diane was at the kitchen counter, kneading bread dough. Alex was holding court – a meeting of the Royal Order of BS, she snarked to herself – at the kitchen table. Retired SHIELD agent Larry Voight and his partner Martin were on one side of the table. On the other were Jeran Robison and his boyfriend, Daniel Freewood.

“Decided to brave the horde after all?” Alex asked Maria, a flicker of sympathy threading through his amusement as he poured her a cup of coffee. Misty opted to detour to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

“Bunny was hungry, and she already faced you alone once today,” Maria said with an embarrassed shrug. She took the mug with a murmured, “Thanks… Papa Alex.” Her discomfort at using the term was worth it, because his answering smile was warm, and his eyes were overbright.

“I believe in keeping SHIELD agents properly caffeinated,” he said lightly. Misty shot him a look as she slid into the chair next to Maria. “Easy, grasshopper. I’m not breaking any classified lines.”

Jeran cleared his throat. “I… have worked with SHIELD in the past.” His eyes flashed to his boyfriend. “And Daniel’s…”

“…been read in,” the doctor finished with a roll of his eyes. “I work for the CDC,” he added, when Misty still looked doubtful. “I’ve worked with SHIELD’s medical and research wing before.”

“I don’t suppose you know Rajit Ramanujan?” Misty suggested hopefully.

Daniel’s eyes fixed on hers. “If I knew Raj, it would be through a classified project that I couldn’t discuss with you,” he said carefully.

Right. Maria’s eyes met Misty’s – because to know what Raj preferred to be called was as good as admitting to knowing him. A quirk of an eyebrow and a twist of the lip decided the pair on a response – to let it lie. There was no sense in stirring up trouble for Raj or Daniel.

“Okay, that’s damned freaky,” Martin said, leaning back in his chair as he watched their nonverbal conversation. “What are you, telepathic?”

Misty snorted, and then had to cough to clear the tea from her airway. “Not exactly.” Maria rubbed her back between her shoulders. “My specialty is microexpressions. Sensei’s goal is for me to be a walking lie-detector.”

“And are you?” Martin pressed.

Maria and Misty exchanged another loaded look. “My accuracy is higher with those I know well,” Misty temporized.

Alex coughed slightly to bring their attention back to him. “Can you read me, grasshopper?”

Misty grinned. “Well, yeah. I mean, I learned on your son – his expressions are basically super-controlled versions of yours and Mama Diane’s. If he’s size twelve font, you’re an eighteen.”

“You—” Larry pointed at Misty, “can read ‘im?” He jerked his thumb at Alex.

“Yeah? He’s not that hard.”

Phil’s father started to laugh as Larry spluttered. “Not that – girl, do you know what we called ‘im at SHIELD?” Larry demanded. “He was Cold Coulson – nobody ever got nothin’ from ‘in that he didn’t mean ‘em to get – and you tell me you can fuckin’ – pardon my language – you can read ‘im?”

“Firstly – I’m a SHIELD agent, Larry. You can swear in front of me,” Misty said softly. “And yeah, I can read Alex. I can read you, too. You’re not half as shocked as you’re trying to seem – and you’re stepping on Martin’s toe to keep him from spoiling your fun. I doubt anybody’s ever called Alex cold – I suspect it was your interrogation partner that got called cold, and that he did it at your request.” She tilted her head to one side. “Not he – she. Your old partner was female, wasn’t she?” As she spoke, she was cataloguing his reactions – as well as those of Alex and Martin. “I bet she was a by-the-book type, at least to look at. Perps go into an interrogation thinking they’re getting a soft woman and a hard man, and you two played that for everything you had.” Misty gave him a half-smile. “Was she your sister, or cousin?” she asked Martin, turning to Larry’s startled partner. 

“Sister,” he answered automatically, before frowning at her. “How…”

Maria slid her arm around Misty’s waist. “She’s damned near the best,” she informed them proudly.

“Who’s better?” Larry demanded.

“Phil,” Alex answered for them. “Although that Lancelock of yours is up in the running, too.”

Misty shook her head. “Lance is good, but he’s better with inanimate observations… and from what I’ve heard of the last week, he’s falling behind on interpersonal observations.” She relaxed into Maria’s arm. 

“I think CJ sees more than Lance does,” Maria murmured. With Misty tucked against her and talking of the Scoobies, it was easy for the others in the room to slip her notice… for Maria to pretend that it was just her and her bunny. “His Gaelic name is watcher, after all. I think he just… doesn’t say anything.”

Beneath the table, Misty put her hand on Maria’s knee and squeezed. “Someday, I hope he feels safe enough with us to say what he’s thinking.”

There was that word again – someday. Maria’s throat tightened. What did someday look like for her bunny? Was there a place for her in it? The conversation resumed around them – though Maria thought Misty at least was participating – as Maria gnawed on the idea of someday. Daisy, with a sensitivity that Maria would have found odd if she’d been paying attention, wormed her way under the table to sit at Maria’s feet, and occasionally sat up to rest her blunt head next to Misty’s hand, adding her furry companionship.

They’d eaten lunch, and adjourned to the den for several rounds of poker, where Misty had cleaned everyone out before switching to a cribbage tournament. They’d broken up the games only when dinner was served, and Misty gently led a still-silent Maria to the table. Maria balked slightly when she saw both the twins and their mothers at the table, but it was too late to retreat now. Christ, she didn’t have the strength for this tonight – not with notions of someday burning in her head.

“Ducks?” Misty’s voice was quiet enough that Maria didn’t think anyone else heard her. “If we need to leave, we can.” Misty’s hand was warm in the small of Maria’s back – and she wasn’t pushing Maria forward, the senior agent realized – just supporting. “I can have a freak out, and you can usher me upstairs to safety.”

“No.” Maria did turn away from the table and wrap her arm around Misty, letting herself bury her face in the blonde hair, just for a moment. The soft floral scent of her bunny’s shampoo comforted her… balanced her. “I’m okay.”

Misty tilted her head enough to put pressure against Maria’s cheek. “Liar.” It was said affectionately. “Stick to the truth, it’s what you’re good at.”

Maria pulled back to look down in Misty’s eyes, startled. “Did you just quote Independence Day at me?”

“It’s never a bad idea to memorize sensei’s favorite movies,” Misty deflected, laughing. “Come on, I’m starving.” They slid into their seats at the table… the very full table, Maria realized. 

And yet somehow, despite there being more than a dozen people at the table, Maria had wound up sitting directly across from Sarah. 

Maria sought out Diane’s eyes and raised an eyebrow. Phil’s mother smiled – a Mona Lisa smile that did nothing to refute her part in the seating arrangements – before Maria turned her attention back to Sarah. On one side sat her wife – on the other, Lily. Rose had managed to wind up on Maria’s left. Maria was glad not just for the girl’s presence, but because that meant Daisy curled up between their feet… and Maria was pitifully grateful for the dog’s touch as well.

“Please don’t look at me like I’m going to start cursing at you,” Sarah said quietly. Those around them averted eyes and ears, and Maria mentally blessed the clientele of the Inn. For all that they were strangers, they seemed to have a preternatural ability to read the family. Then again, with as many repeat customers as they had… maybe it was familiarity.

Maria forced her mind back to the present. She’d rather let it wander, but Sarah – and the rest of the Coulson coterie – merited her attention. “I deserve worse than cursing,” Maria said instead, her voice as soft as Sarah’s. Misty put her hand on Maria’s thigh again and squeezed, and Rose linked her arm through Maria’s on her other side. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t.” Sarah raised one hand to stop her – the other interlocked with her wife’s on the table. She paused, looking down at the plate her mother had filled with food – as she’d filled the plates of all her family.

Misty and Maria included.

That, more than anything, brought it home to Sarah that her parents considered these women their own – reminded her that Phil trusted them with his life, with the lives of his spouses. Like they trusted Catriona – the wad of keys that opened every locked door on the property was proof enough of that, and her father had bestowed that on Catriona this past Christmas.

So.

Sarah took a deep breath, tightening her fingers around Iris’s for strength, and blew the breath out hard enough to flutter her bangs. “You were right to call me on it, Maria. I needed to hear it. I don’t like the way the message was delivered, but I needed to hear it. And yeah, I was fucking pissed – but that doesn’t mean you were wrong.” She reached with her free hand for Lily’s. “I can’t promise I won’t be a bitch about all this Gaia stuff again but… Dad’s right too.” Sarah looked down at Lily’s hand in her own. “It’s fear talking, not mad. And I can’t promise I won’t kneejerk reaction back to mad but… I don’t want to do to my girls what your stepmother did to you.” Misty jolted slightly – she didn’t realize Maria had told the Coulsons about her stepmother. “So… consider this our first sister argument.” She paused. “What do your clanmates call you, outside of work?” Other than ducks, she added to herself – because she could foresee serious bodily injury if she tried to call Maria ‘ducks’ or Misty ‘bunny.’

“Ria,” Maria said in a small voice. “It’s a Clint nickname.” Her eyes flickered to Diane. “My gran used to call me lovey. It was the only thing any family member ever called me that was meant with care.”

Diane’s heart clutched and she ignored all proper etiquette to abandon dinner and guests, rise from her table, step around it to Maria and wrap her in a fierce hug. “I had no idea I was hurting your heart when I used that name,” Diane murmured in her ear. “I’m so sorry, Maria.”

“No, it’s okay.” Maria accepted the hug – shocked that just in the short time she’d been here, she’d been able to learn to accept them. “At first, when you said it I thought… I thought it was just…”

“Just something I said, not something I mean?” Diane asked, combing Maria’s hair back from her face. Maria nodded. “I mean it, lovey.” Diane pressed her lips to Maria’s forehead.

“I know. I figured that part out.” Maria looked up at Diane, a small smile peeking through. “Gran would have liked you – the whole lot of you.” She found Misty’s hand on her thigh and interlaced their fingers – because Gran would have adored her bunny, too.

Lily sized up the emotional levels in the room and decided it was time for a twintervention. “I think I’ll stick with calling you Aunt Maria and Aunt Misty,” she announced. “Unless you prefer Aunt Buffy?” She aimed that at Misty, with one eyebrow raised.

Misty laughed. “Not particularly, no.” 

“Good, because it sounds stupid,” Rose said, flashing her twin half a smile. “But I like Aunt Ria. Can I call you that sometimes?” She tugged on Maria’s elbow.

Maria was pretty sure anybody sitting at this table could call her damned near anything, and she’d be okay with it. “Yeah, Rose. That’d be great.”

~ * ~


	34. Chapter 34

When her cell phone rang at a quarter after midnight, Maria answered it warily. The last middle-of-the-night call she’d taken had been Misty, just over a week ago – and that call had turned her life upside down. 

Her dread increased – high enough to make Misty sit up next to her – when she saw Phil’s name on the display. “Chief? What is it?”

“I need a favor.”

Maria punched the speakerphone button. “We’re all ears.”

Phil paused, marshalling his words. “I haven’t been able to raise any of the Scoobies on their cells – private or SHIELD.” Misty sucked in a breath but didn’t interrupt. “Clint, Nat, and I were called back in tonight for an op – an extraction, actually, that Fury wanted Nat on, and she talked him into the package deal. I wanted the Scoobies to split between shadowing them in the field and me here at HQ.” She could hear his frown – and his worry. “They aren’t on duty, and as Fury hasn’t authorized me to pull them in, I can’t use SHIELD resources to locate them. It’s probably nothing, but…”

“Yeah, but.” Maria threw back the covers. “But the last time we ignored somebody being incommunicado, she lost forty-eight hours,” Maria said, meeting Misty’s eyes.

“Give us an hour to pack, and we’ll be on the road,” Misty said to Phil firmly, not pulling her gaze from Maria. “If there’s any reason to be concerned, we’ll find it.”

“I’ll send you the data I have,” Phil promised. “Last pings on their cell phones, the times they clocked out. It’s not much, but I couldn’t do more without raising flags.” There was a commotion in the background of the call, and he sighed. “Hill, I’ve got to get back to the tactical center.” The switch to her surname alerted them both that he was no longer alone. “I’m going to be incommunicado until this mission is done – a mission I can’t brief you on. You’re officially off duty until Friday, remember?”

She snorted. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Keep cuz and nascha safe for us, sensei,” Misty said softly. “We’ll take care of the fledglings.”

“See that you do.”

There was a moment’s lull after the call ended, and then both women leapt into action. As Maria began packing, Misty trotted down the hallway to Diane and Alex’s room and knocked once, sharply. She briefed Phil’s parents with the same brisk tone she’d use on agents, and returned to dress as Maria began hauling their things down the stairs and out to the SUV. 

Alex met Maria in the hallway and wordlessly relieved her of her burden, nodding for her to head back to the room for another load. Diane put on a pot of coffee and a kettle of hot water.

The twins, sleepy-eyed but frowning, appeared in their doorway. “What’s going on?” Lily asked, frowning at Misty.

“We’ve got to head back to DC,” Misty said.

Rose’s eyes narrowed. “Is someone hurt? Or in trouble?”

“Maybe.” Misty wished she was capable of lying to the girl – but even if she could bring herself to do it, she realized that Lily would see her deception. “Won’t know until we get there – but your uncle called, and our clanmates aren’t answering their phones.”

“They’re probably at a damned movie theater,” Maria growled, passing by the twins with another bag in her hands. “Turned off their cell phones to be polite, and we’re going to come bursting back into DC a day and a half ahead of schedule to find them saying ‘Oh shucks, sorry guys.’”

Lily turned to stare at Maria, then slowly raised one eyebrow. Maria met her eyes and then flushed, looking away. The girl didn’t need her Gift to know that Maria was using anger to mask her fear – her Uncle Phil did the same thing. So did her Mom, for that matter. 

“Is there anything we can do?” Rose offered. Her hand dropped to Daisy’s head and scratched the velvety ears – ears that were pricked forward towards Maria, as though the dog fully expected to be given an assignment as well.

Misty bit her lip. “I could use one more good twin cuddle before we go,” she admitted, opening her arms towards the girls.

“Cuddles we can do,” Lily assured her. She wrapped one arm around Misty’s middle and with her other hand gestured imperiously for Maria to join them.

Maria obeyed… since it was what she wanted to do anyway. Wrapped in Misty and the twins, Maria felt the unexpected pricking of tears. She bent slightly to press a kiss to the top of Rose and Lily’s blonde heads. “I’m going to miss both of you,” she murmured to the girls. “And Daisy. Stay in touch, okay? And I’m not just saying that like… like…”

“Like a distant relative who we exchange birthday cards with, and nothing more?” Rose supplied, looking up at Maria with a faint smile. “I know, Aunt Ria. When you know your sibs are safe and you get settled at home, we’ll set up like, a weekly Skype date or something. So you can keep up with us and Daisy.”

Goddess, how old were these girls? Maria squeezed again, wishing she had better words. She could accept Phil’s parents as surrogates for her own – because the love they showed their family was so open and freely given that it would have been harder to reject it. But these girls… considering them family was something she needed even more. Mama Diane and Papa Alex made her feel welcome – Lily and Rose made her feel wanted.

“Sibs?” Misty repeated.

“Um, siblings?” Lily expanded, wincing a little. “Is that not a cool term? Squadmates isn’t strong enough, and I know you call Uncle Clint cuz, but – ”

“Sibs is good.” Misty duplicated the kisses Maria had delivered, and tried not to think about it feeling like a kiss-by-proxy from her ducks. “It just surprised me. We’ll set up that Skype date, I promise.” She paused, searching for a way to phrase her thoughts – and settled on blunt truth. “Rape notwithstanding, this past week has been amazing. I’m so glad I had a chance to spend time with you two – and the rest of the family.”

Lily beamed up at her, and Rose flashed her a less ebullient but no less genuine smile as well. “Go on downstairs,” Lily urged softly, after another round of hugs. “We have school tomorrow, so we should go back to bed – and Grandma and Papa will want to feed and caffeinate you before you get on the road.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Maria’s cheek before twisting to do the same to Misty. “After all the excitement, text us to let us know everyone’s okay. Otherwise we’ll worry.”

Maria assured her that they would, then seized Misty’s hand and headed downstairs. The girls watched a moment longer before going back into their bedroom and closing the door.

At the table, Diane had laid out coffee, tea, and orange juice – as well as omelettes, muffins, sausage, and pancakes. “You’re on a personal mission to make sure I can’t fit into my uniforms, aren’t you?” Misty asked Phil’s mother dryly as she sat down. 

“If you’re anything like my son – and you are – ” Diane added, pinning both Misty and Maria with maternal glares, “you won’t eat again until whatever situation you’re walking into is resolved – and given you’ll be on the road for twelve hours, it’d be best if you ate first.”

Maria mentally corrected the travel time – there was no way in hell she was going to drive the speed limit. If it took more than eight hours for them to get home, she’d be surprised – she was going to be using every last trick she knew to get them there as soon as possible.

But Mama Diane didn’t need to know how many risks she was planning on taking.

Hell, if she hadn’t had a vehicle belonging to Natasha, she’d ditch it and fly… but she wasn’t going to strand a vehicle here when she could avoid it.

Shaking her head to herself, Maria focused back on breakfast, in time to hear Diane say, “You will let us know if there’s anything we can do?”

Misty offered Diane a small smile. “Of course.” She drew a nonsense shape in her maple syrup with her fork. “You know, I don’t remember why I chose to come here,” Misty began, not seeing the significant look Alex and Diane exchanged, “but I’d choose it again clear-headed. I don’t know that I can tell you how much it means to me to be welcomed like this…” She trailed off and reached for her tea, throat gone tight. She’d imagined finding the right words to tell Phil’s parents what they meant to her, but in the moment she couldn’t remember any of her practiced phrases.

Diane smiled gently at her – at them both. They reminded her of her son in a lot of ways, including this inability to speak of emotional matters. Phil had never been effusive, even as a child – had always been unwilling or unable to voice what he was feeling. That was changing, now – married life agreed with him. But she could see it still in the women sitting before her. She leaned across the table and patted Misty’s hand. “No need, lovey.” She flicked her eyes to Maria to be sure that the older agent knew she was included in the reassurance. “You were welcome here the moment Phil claimed you as kin – and now that we know you, you’re welcome on your own merits as well. Anytime,” she added, when Misty’s eyes fixed on her. “Together, alone. It doesn’t matter. You’re part of our family now – and family is always welcome.”

Neither Misty nor Maria knew what to say to that – but Diane didn’t seem to expect them to. She patted each of their hands again and then rose to finish filling the insulated grocery bag she was sending with them.

~ * ~

“You should try and sleep,” Maria advised, glancing over at Misty in the dark confines of the SUV. “One of us should be rested.”

Misty laid her hand on Maria’s thigh, letting the senior agent feel the thin, continuous tremble running through her. “I can’t sleep until I know they’re safe, ducks,” Misty said quietly. “I can keep it together, and I can be a good agent – but sleep isn’t going to happen.”

Maria immediately covered Misty’s hand with her own. “Okay.” She wanted to say more – to reassure her bunny that the Scoobies were fine, that everything was good – but the words stuck in her throat.

The drive was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. Maria was focusing on her driving, and wishing thoroughly that Angie wasn’t incommunicado and could put out some sort of techno mojo that made the vehicle impervious to radar guns. (She wasn’t even sure that was possible, much less remotely – but her faith in Angie’s hacking and tech abilities was damn near as high as her faith in CJ’s sharpshooting.)

Instead, Misty had switched on Natasha’s no-doubt-illegal radio antennae, and was monitoring frequencies for any chatter about a black SUV traveling at unusual speeds in the middle of the night. It wasn’t fascinating work, but it kept part of her mind busy and off the possible threat to her men.

And women, she corrected herself – and the automatic correction made her smile inwardly. That was pure sensei. She’d never bothered with being politically correct about genders before him – always referred to her squad or her teammates as ‘men’ regardless of how their skin was shaped… but Phil punctiliously corrected her every time. 

Goddess, Misty hoped they were okay. She’d known that her feelings for her fellow Scoobies were intense – that she’d come to regard them as the siblings she’d never had – but she hadn’t realized how deeply they were rooted in her heart. Losing one of them wouldn’t just hurt… it would shatter her, especially in the fragile mental state she found herself now.

Misty wasn’t aware that her heart rate had picked up and her breathing with it until she felt Maria’s hand tighten around her fingers, where they still rested on the brunette’s thigh. “Whatever you’re thinking, bunny – don’t,” Maria said softly. “I need you to stay with me.” She bit her lip and flickered her eyes sideways to Misty. “If you fall apart, I’m going to, too.”

That halted Misty’s panic quite effectively – and she realized it wasn’t just her own trembling she was feeling. A thin, continuous shiver was being transmitted through Maria’s fingers, and Misty twisted her hand so that she could interlace their fingers, running a soothing thumb across Maria’s knuckles. “I’m sorry, ducks. I should have thought of that.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Maria flashed her a half smile. “I’m too used to hiding my… vulnerabilities… I guess.” She squeezed the fingers in her hand, feeling the answering pressure. “It’s taking me awhile, but I’m getting better at showing them to you, I think.”

“You are.” Misty smiled tenderly, glad that Maria’s eyes were on the road, and not on her – she knew her expression was more open than Maria was ready to see. “And I’m learning how to see them more honestly.”

Maria’s lips quirked. “What, were my microexpressions lying to you?”

Misty was quiet a moment before she answered, and her fingers tightened in Maria’s. “No. I was lying to myself, about what they said,” she answered, her voice just above a whisper.

She wanted to ask – needed to ask – but Maria knew now wasn’t the time – not with both of them on hair triggers, worried about their clanmates. She wanted to raise Misty’s hand to her lips and kiss it in reassurance, but settled for rubbing soothing circles across the back of her hand.

Neither of them spoke again for several hundred miles.

~ * ~


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice a distinct lack of detail regarding the Scoobies' experience in the beginning of this chapter -- and that is because it is covered independently in the next fic (Gone Astray). That fic is short (for me) and is OC-centric. If you're not into OCs, you can skip it... I've written it so that while you miss fun stuff, you won't miss critical plot points.

“You know, this isn’t how I planned to spend Valentine’s Day,” Misty said dryly as she checked the spare magazine for her service pistol, and tapped various pockets of her jeans to be sure she had creds, cell phone, and a few other tactical surprises.

Maria flashed her a grin. “What, a cold entry into an unknown location isn’t your idea of romance?”

They were a block away from the last location of the Scoobies’ cell phones, having stopped to check their gear and intel one last time before their final approach. Phil’s triangulation of the cell phones led them to a disreputable industrial neighborhood that was surprisingly empty of the usual homeless and panhandlers. 

“I don’t think this sector qualifies as romantic, no,” Misty answered, keeping her voice light. They were both tense – letting it bleed off in humor was better than most of the alternatives. (There was at least one other use of excess adrenaline that Misty considered, but discarded as not being of interest to Maria.) “Or scenic,” she added, pointing at the boarded windows.

They inched closer to the address Phil had given them, pulling in behind two familiar vehicles – in front, a SHIELD SUV that Misty thought Chuck usually checked out, and a small sedan that she recognized as Sam’s. “Well, we’re in the right place,” Maria murmured. 

Together, they swept the immediate location and began tracking their clanmates. It was Maria who found the first solid sign of their presence – by ear. They followed the noise to a ventilation shaft, and made contact with Chuck through the same vent. He was just as glad to hear their voices as they were to hear his.

By nine o’clock, joint effort had unearthed an access hatch for the HVAC system, which allowed all seven Scoobies to scramble out of their erstwhile underground containment cell and back onto solid ground – and into Misty’s arms.

“What the hell happened?” she demanded, first of Chuck and then of the squad as a whole. No one answered immediately. “Damn it.”

“Look, we’re going to get our asses chewed something fierce,” Chuck said with a sigh. “By you, by all three of the triad, by Maria – but first, can we check in at HQ and get Sam and Raj to Medical?”

Maria eyed their medic and hand-to-hand specialist. “Unknown exposure to unknown chemical? How long were you out?”

Raj’s eyes were clearer than Sam’s, but when he met Maria’s gaze it was obvious he wasn’t at full capacity yet, either. “Think it was whatever you got,” he said, gesturing at Misty. “Was tracking it when I got a lead to this place. Might’ve been something else,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “But it’s a working theory.”

“Almost twelve hours,” Chuck murmured to Maria, when her eyes swung to him. “They started to rouse about eleven and a half after exposure. Damned brief exposure – and extremely localized. They were affected – the rest of us weren’t, and I doubt they were more than four feet ahead of us.” He glanced around them, his eyes lingering on the sack of disassembled electronics in Angie’s hand. “Can I borrow a phone? Ours are all toast.” Misty dug out her cell phone and passed it to Chuck, who handed it to Angie. “She’s the one who’s late to report,” he explained, when she raised her eyes. “She was due in Intel at nine. The rest of us aren’t late anywhere, yet.”

Misty’s eyebrows raised. “Organized cooperation, Chuckles?” If she’d had to guess how her squadmates would handle twelve hours of enforced companionship, it wouldn’t have been… this. CJ was in the worst shape emotionally, from her quick visual survey of their known nervous habits, but even he wasn’t as shaky as she’d have expected.

“My mama taught me to return things I’d borrowed in better condition than when I’d received them,” Chuck said solemnly, looking around at his squadmates. “Some of us are a little banged up, but we’re solid otherwise.”

Maria started herding them towards the vehicles. Her face was less expressive than it had been when they were alone, Misty realized – but the stiffness hadn’t returned. “Let’s get that solidness back to Headquarters, get you fed and watered – and cleaned up – ” she added with an exaggerated sniff at Chuck, who grinned, “ – and then we’ll see if Phil is free of the mission he’s handling. Nat and Clint were headed out to an extraction,” she explained at the curious looks. “Phil was running it from the tactical center. That’s why we’re here, and they aren’t.”

Chuck slid behind the wheel of his SUV, resting his forehead briefly on the wheel. “You okay to drive?” Misty asked softly. “You’ve had some excitement, and no sleep.”

“I’d reckon you ain’t had sleep neither,” Chuck drawled. Misty’s eyes crinkled in amusement at his grammar – she could never decide if it slipped when he was relaxed and tired, or if he did it purposely. “I can make it back to HQ – then I’m gonna need R&R. But not before we get everybody checked out.” He was firm on that, meeting her eyes with no sign of the awkwardness they’d shared in their last phone conversation.

“Alright.” Misty touched his forearm lightly before stepping away from the vehicle. She checked in on Sam, driving the second car, before returning to the passenger side of Maria’s borrowed SUV. The senior agent was waiting patiently in the driver’s side. “Let’s get to HQ… and hidden in sensei’s office so Fury doesn’t see us.”

Maria flashed her an amused grin. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t actually fire me for being on the grounds.”

“I don’t feel like risking it,” Misty shot back. “I need you,” she added softly. “And that means you staying on at SHIELD, okay?”

“Yeah.” Maria reached for her hand even as she guided the SUV to follow their squadmates. “Whatever you need, bunny.”

~ * ~

They slipped into Phil’s office as unobtrusively as possible. Misty sank onto the couch immediately. Maria sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. To Misty’s surprise – and relief – she did it with the same closeness she had at the Inn. Warmth flooded her, and gratitude. The door was shut, yes, but Maria hadn’t locked the deadbolt. Her willingness to by physically close to Misty anyway… 

“What’s the matter, bunny?” Maria asked softly, using her free hand to tip Misty’s face up towards her until she could make eye contact. “Our sibs are safe – oh, and one of us should text Rose and Lily – and they’re being checked out in Medical. We can relax now.”

“I know. That’s not… that wasn’t it.” Misty debated – drawing Maria’s attention to the physical closeness might cause her to pull away, but… “I’m just really relieved that you’re not…”

“Not sitting on the other end of the couch, putting up barriers?” Maria finished for her, when Misty couldn’t. “I am, too.” She smoothed her hand down the blonde hair. “It’s easier than I expected. Turns out in a battle between your sanity and my public image… you win.” Her smile faltered a little. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather keep this… between us, and not all over SHIELD, but…”

“I get it, ducks.” Misty leaned her head into Maria’s shoulder. “I’d rather keep it between us too. And the clan,” she added after a moment.

Maria ran her hand over Misty’s hair again. “And the clan.”

They were silent – the weary silence of a short night followed by a stressful drive – until the door was pushed open hesitantly, and Phil entered. Behind him, the seven remaining Scoobies filed in. When the last entered, Phil turned the deadbolt before striding across the room and bending to wrap both Misty and Maria in a tight hug.

“We’re okay, sensei,” Misty murmured in his ear. He didn’t answer, other than to tighten his grasp on them.

Two weeks ago, Maria would have pulled back from his affection – if not outright recoil. A week ago she’d have allowed the hug but with obvious discomfort. Today, she was able to cup her hand around the back of his neck and reassure him. “We’re okay,” Maria echoed Misty.

Phil released them slowly, stepping back silently and sliding out of his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of his desk chair. To their surprise, he also loosened and removed his tie. “So.” He let his eyes roam over the nine clanmates in his office, seating himself on the edge of his desk, facing them. “Does somebody want to tell me what happened?”

Chuck and Lance exchanged glances, and Lance ducked his head in surrender. Misty’s eyebrows shot up, and she was glad neither of them were looking in her direction. She would have expected Chuck to defer to Lance, as he did so often. Perhaps something had changed in their hours of confinement?

“Let me start by saying I’ll take full responsibility,” Chuck began, squaring his shoulders. He hadn’t seated himself on the couch or any of the visitors’ chairs, but stood at parade rest facing the room. “There were a couple of factors in how we got where we did, but the final call was mine. If anybody gets hit with disciplinary action, it should be me.”

“Now wait just a minute—” Raj began, at the same time that Lance was saying, “Don’t you dare fall on your sword, Chuckles.”

Phil ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Noble sacrifice later. Details now.” Someone – Misty couldn’t tell who – made a noise of surprise. “I’ve had an eventful day – night – as well. I had to order my wife and husband into a very dangerous compound to extract an asset, knowing full well that the last team dispatched suffered life-threatening injuries. I’m not in the mood for bullshit.”

His use of an expletive – and the removal of his tie – brought his point home more thoroughly than anything. Chuck sighed and sank down to sit on the coffee table. “Alright. Just the facts, then.” He explained Raj’s lead, and acquisition of an address from a source – and his own suggestion that they stop to check out the address before heading to a group dinner. He described the underground passage behind the door Raj had been told about by his source, the lab they’d found, and the booby-trap that had collapsed one wall of the facility and left them trapped. He explained the substance that Raj and Sam had been exposed to – what they surmised was a drug identical or similar to what had been used on Misty, as it had caused immediate unconsciousness for nearly twelve hours, and had been the substance Raj was tracking when his source sent him in that direction.

“We’ll know tonight, probably, if it’s chemically the same drug,” Raj added. “I put a rush on the tox screens. SHIELD doesn’t have the results from you, Buffy – but I’ll recognize it.”

Phil held up one hand to draw their attention back to him – the other was rubbing his forehead. As unobtrusively as possible, CJ rose to start the kettle to make their chief a cup of Catriona’s headache tea. “If I understand this correctly, you followed an unverified lead to an unknown location without informing your handler – or your squad leader – and you did so without alerting anyone as to where you were going, or what time to consider you overdue.”

His office was silent, except for the faint sounds of tea water heating.

Both hands raised to his face now, he drilled his index fingers into his temples and closed his eyes. “If this had been a SHIELD mission, I’d write all seven of you up for gross negligence and insubordination.” He let his hands drop, and his shoulders slumped forward. “As it is, I’m tempted to put reprimands in your files, even if you were off duty.”

“Phil, I think you’re overreacting,” Maria protested. 

His head jerked up and he glared at her. “Maria Theresa Hill,” he said sternly – causing her to jerk back and stare at him. She didn’t even know he knew her middle name, and sure as hell hadn’t expected her objection to warrant being Full Named like a child. “I – and my wife, and my husband – and you, and Misty – have spent the last eight hours not even knowing if our clanmates were alive.” His voice dropped to a dangerous octave, and Maria was forcefully reminded of Sarah. “Aside from regulations, they completely disregarded common decency. Goddess, I thought you were all dead!” That come out strangled and he clenched his hands, standing to pace behind his desk. “Stuck up in the tactical center watching my spouses infiltrate an enemy encampment, knowing I couldn’t do a damned thing to help them if something went wrong – not knowing if my clan had been abducted or captured or in a damned car wreck – worrying about you and Misty driving Goddess knows how fast from Wisconsin to investigate because I couldn’t – no, I don’t think I’m overreacting, Maria.”

CJ poured water into a mug, added tea, and brought it to Phil in the silence that followed his outburst. “Chief,” he said calmly. When that didn’t draw Phil’s attention, CJ extended one hand with the mug, and the other to Phil’s shoulder. “Boss, take a deep breath. Please.” Phil was surprised enough at the physical contact to do as he asked. “We made mistakes. A bunch of them. Chuck wants to take all of the blame because he’s a damned good squad second—” Chuck looked surprised at the praise “—but the fact is, we all made them. They snowballed, until one bad decision became a whole lot of them. But I can guarantee it won’t happen again.” Phil started to object, but CJ shook his head and gently squeezed the shoulder he still held. “I am pretty sure I speak for all the Scoobies when I say I’m not the same agent – the same person – I was yesterday.” His eyes flickered across the room, noting the nods of agreement from his clanmates. “None of us intended to worry you, boss,” he added more gently. “We were just feeling so damned helpless, and so eager for something we could do…”

Misty cleared her throat, and managed not to flinch when all eyes turned to her. “Can we blame it on situational stupidity? It’s a combination of factors that, Goddess willing, will never repeat.”

“We are safe, taoiseach,” Lance said. “We are safe, and smarter for it.”

Phil looked at them – truly looked at each of them, for the first time since he’d gathered them from the Medical wing.

CJ, standing in front of him, voluntarily offering physical comfort that he so rarely extended or accepted.

Chuck, ready to bear any punishment for their offenses – entirely on his own shoulders.

Raj, face still blotchy from his encounter with the unknown chemical, immediately beginning to study that element as the only lead they had regarding Misty’s assault.

Sam, seated next to Raj and bearing the same chemical marks, wordlessly supporting her clanmates.

Angie, on Raj’s other side, with one hand clutching the bag holding all their destroyed electronics – proof that they’d been trying, by any means possible, to make contact with their clanmates.

Lance, gazing at him calmly, demonstrating by his very serenity that they were unharmed.

It would take a harder man than himself, Phil realized, to stay angry at them. His shoulders relaxed and he lifted the mug CJ had brought him to his lips. CJ squeezed his shoulder once more before pulling back, returning to sit near Lance. “I am so glad that you’re safe,” Phil said after he’d drained the mug, and felt no shame in the emotion evidenced by his tight voice. “Please don’t ever do that again. I’m not a young man – my heart can’t take it.”

“You have my word,” Chuck murmured, and there were similar declarations from the others. “And yeah – I realize we’ve still got to live through Clint and Nat’s mad,” he said dryly, glancing at his clanmates. “Not to mention what Buffy and Maria are going to dish out.” There were scattered chuckles. “None of that’ll cut to the quick like hurting you, chief,” Chuck continued quietly. “I’m sorry – and that ain’t agent to handler. I don’t give a flying fuck if there’s disciplinary action from Agent Coulson to Agent Bellamy.” He flashed a brief grin. “Agent Bellamy is an asshole. But cumainn? He’s sorry as hell to have worried his taoiseach.”

“Apology accepted,” Phil murmured, and set his mug down on his desk. He strode across the room and put his hands on Chuck’s shoulders, then leaned down to deliver a paternal kiss to the surprised squad second’s forehead.

“Damn, you really are your father’s son,” Misty muttered.

His laughter broke the stillness, and dissipated any awkwardness. “I suppose I am.” He sat back down on the edge of his desk, running a hand over his eyes this time in weariness. “Goddess, it’s been a long few days.”

“If you’d let me, I’d step in for you – ” Maria offered, but Phil waved it away.

“Aside from the fact that I know damned well you haven’t slept since I called you… Fury would have my hide. No, I’m arbitrarily ordering all of us off for the next twenty-four hours – and I don’t really care what Fury makes of it. Go home, all of you. Get some rest.” He paused. “Dinner at the dojo at eight okay with everyone?”

“Is the answer to that ever no?” Angie quipped.

Phil chuckled. “You never know, one of you might have had Valentine’s Day plans.”

Raj couldn’t help the snort erupting from him. “Yeah, right.”

“Hey, you had a date with what’s-her-name, the nurse, last week,” Lance protested.

“Yeah. A date,” Raj agreed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not taking her out for Valentine’s as a second date. Talk about unreasonable expectations.”

“Whatever happened to that chick you were dating, Lance?” Angie asked as she rose, moving to unlock the door. “That Southern belle from accounting?”

Lance made a faux-wounded noise and clutched his heart. “Alas, I cannot compete with budgets for her attention. The fair maiden would rather find a Galahad than a Lancelot.”

“Go home, all of you,” Phil ordered, but there was humor in his eyes and his voice. “Get out of my office.”

~ * ~


	36. Chapter 36

Misty eased herself into the passenger seat of the SUV, feeling the weariness seep into her. “I need sleep, ducks.”

“I know, bunny.” Maria’s eyes flickered across to her as she started the vehicle. “We’ve just got to make a quick pitstop at my apartment, and then we can go home and crash.”

“You want me to come up with you?” Misty offered around a yawn.

Maria smiled at her, reaching over to stroke her hair back from her face. “No. You go ahead and doze. I won’t be long.”

Misty agreed sleepily, pressing into Maria’s hand like an overgrown kitten. By the time Maria pulled into her parking spot, the squad leader was sound asleep.

Maria took the steps two at a time, mentally inventorying what was in her suitcase in the SUV and what she was likely to need for however long she was staying with Misty

– which she kind of hoped was forever.

Stunned, Maria sank onto the nearest flat surface as her knees gave out. They hadn’t discussed this. Not in any of their dark-of-the-night conversations, in bed or in the SUV. She had no idea why she’d assumed she was staying with Misty for the foreseeable future… even less idea why Misty seemed entirely unsurprised by the notion.

Or why it didn’t bother her.

In fact, quite the opposite – she was eager to return to her bunny, to usher her up to her cramped apartment… to curl up together in Misty’s bed, just as they had in the Yellow Room.

She forced herself to stand – to pack methodically, even though her mind wasn’t on the task. This felt so natural and right, but she didn’t understand how they’d come to this agreement – this arrangement – without ever speaking of it. Was it more outside influence? From Gaia, or the clan druid voodoo? Was it part of this new closeness between them? Were the fierce emotions she felt for her bunny genuine and natural… or manufactured?

Maria had no clearer answer by the time she shoved a large duffel and a garment bag into the back of the SUV. Misty blinked awake when she opened the door, smiling at her.

“Ready to go home, ducks?” Misty asked, reaching for Maria’s hand the moment she slid into the SUV. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Do you still want to go to dinner at the dojo?” If Misty was that exhausted, they could beg off.

The blonde pinned her with a look. “Of course. I need to see my sibs, and the clan needs to see us. But in the meantime, I want a nap.” She squeezed Maria’s fingers. “We need to check in with the Coulsons. Would you rather send texts to the twins, or call Mama Diane?”

“I’ll call Diane,” Maria decided. “When we get home, while you get cleaned up and changed.”

They parked and hauled their bags up to Misty’s apartment – it took three trips to get all the luggage and everything Misty had bought in Manitowoc – before Misty blew out a breath and flopped onto the couch. “Okay. I was tired before, now I’m a zombie.”

“Go take a shower, zombie bunny,” Maria chuckled. “You’ll feel better clean and warm.”

Misty disappeared first into the bedroom to grab clean pajamas and then into the bathroom. Maria let out a breath and dug for her cell phone, dialing Diane’s number from memory. “Hi, Mama Diane,” she said when the older woman answered, and Maria sank into an armchair, feeling the wash of sudden fatigue too. “Wanted to let you know everyone is safe.”

“Oh, thank God,” Diane breathed out, then laughed softly at herself. “Or Goddess, I suppose.” Maria’s silence clued her into the fact that there was something else on the senior agent’s mind. “Everything alright, lovey?”

Maria debated how to ask her question – even over the phone, it was hard for her to talk about her emotions. But she needed to talk to someone – and short of blurting it out to Misty, Mama Diane was the next likeliest person to be able to offer advice. “I’m… how do I… I have this fear, that what’s between me and bunny isn’t… all real. That it’s clan voodoo or kinship or mama mojo, and not—”

“Maria,” Diane interrupted gently. “I have no doubt in my mind that what is between you and Misty is very real, and very strong. If, by some chance, the seed was planted by one of those other sources – well, the tree that’s sprung from it is entirely due to your own efforts to nurture it, yours and Misty’s.” She carefully avoided using the word ‘love,’ though she was confident in how deeply the two did love each other. “Have you asked Lily? Perhaps her own Gift would give her insight.”

“I haven’t.” Maria relaxed into the chair, letting her head fall back. “I don’t know if her mojo works over videochat, but I’ll ask her sometime.”

“Did one of your Scoobies say something to make you doubt?” Diane asked.

Maria paused, thinking. “I was curled around bunny in Phil’s office when he dressed them down, and nobody mentioned it at all. Maybe that’s what made me feel weird. It was weird that it wasn’t weird?”

Diane laughed. “As often as you all use ‘weird’ to describe your clan, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“I guess it shouldn’t me either.” Maria sighed. “We’ll see how awkward it is at dinner.” Diane made an inquiring noise. “Family dinner at the dojo – the triad’s house – tonight.”

“On Valentine’s Day?”

“Phil’s idea.” Maria really wished people would stop pointing out the holiday. “I think he needs to feed his fledglings more than he needs a romantic evening with his spouses.”

Diane didn’t doubt it. He’d gotten that tendency from her, after all.

Misty came out of the bathroom still toweling her hair, clad in an honest-to-goodness set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer pajama shorts and tank top. Maria didn’t bother to hide her smile. Goddess, her bunny was adorable. “I should go, Mama Diane – it’s my turn in the shower, and then we’re going to take a much-needed nap before dinner.”

“Give my love to Misty and the rest of the clan – and keep some for yourself,” Diane replied.

“Yes ma’am.” They ended the call and Maria set her cell phone on the coffee table next to Misty’s. “You going to wait up for me while I shower? Text the girls?”

“Yup.” Misty scooped up her cell before sinking back into the couch. “Don’t take too long,” she added with a yawn. Maria disappeared into the bathroom, and Misty started composing her message to the girls. She knew they weren’t allowed their cells during school hours – not unless it was an emergency – so she didn’t expect to get a reply right away.

_L &R – We are all home safe. The Scoobies did something foolish & got trapped somewhere for a while, but Ria & I got em out. Nobody hurt bad. Sam & Raj had a chemical sprayed on them, but they are OK too. Clint & Nat are on their way home from a mission, Phil is headed home too. We all need sleep. If you msg back I prob won’t answer until after a late dinner. Maybe not until morn. Love you both and miss you already. Send me Daisy pics, I miss her too. Love, Aunt Misty_

It was true – Misty missed the girls with an almost palpable ache. And Phil’s parents… hell, even Sarah and Iris. Sensei was very fortunate, to have the family he did, she knew – and felt her throat close up as she couldn’t help but compare his with her own. She’d spent more quality time with his family in the past week than with her own mother in the last three years, and that hurt.

She had a hand to her mouth, stifling the sobs that wanted to come when Maria exited the bathroom. Dropping the towel she’d been using on her hair with no regard to its dampness, Maria crossed to the couch and dropped next to Misty, wrapping her arms around the blonde and pulling her tight against her shoulder. “I’m right here, bunny. It’s okay.” Misty buried her head in the crook of Maria’s neck, heedless of the wet hair. “If you need to cry, let it out,” Maria urged softly. “It’s okay.”

It couldn’t have been very long, that Misty’s body was wracked with sobs, but it felt like an eternity to Maria. She kept one hand in Misty’s hair, holding her head close, and the other running up and down Misty’s back in a soothing rhythm. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Misty had pulled away when she had caught her breath and was able to speak, but instead her bunny cuddled closer and whispered to her. “I was thinking about my mom,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “You know, comparing her to Mama Diane. Just… just really hit me how lucky sensei is, and… how much it sucks, not to have that.”

“We do have that, bunny,” Maria murmured, rocking Misty gently against her. “We have Mama Diane and Papa Alex, and a whole mess of siblings. A strong patriarch, a loving matriarch, and a pain-in-the-ass-but-lovable-whatever-you-want-to-call-Clint.” Maria felt Misty’s lips curve in a smile against the skin of her neck. “It’s not the same, I know. Great Good Goddess, do I know,” she added in a low tone. “But we’ve got family now, bunny – and I figure that even if I went insane tomorrow and thought I wanted out of it, to wash my hands of all of them… they wouldn’t let me.” Maria tucked her cheek against Misty’s damp hair, wishing she dared add a kiss. “Let’s get some sleep,” she said quietly. “We’re both exhausted.”

Misty unwound herself from Maria and rose, offering her hand to the brunette before leading her to the bedroom. It was a smaller bed than they’d shared at the Inn, but that didn’t bother either of them. In a matter of moments, they were tangled together again, and fast asleep.

~ * ~

{Fuck it all, I’m not reporting to HQ,} Clint said silently to Natasha as they disembarked from a helicopter. {Let’s go home.}

They’d gotten texts from Phil once they were in the copter and could turn on their cell phones – the Scoobies were safe, and everyone was going home to catch some sleep. Even in text, they could hear Phil’s weariness. {We should check in…} Natasha began to protest, but shook her head. {You’re right, dearling. I need our husband.}

They ignored the surprised looks from the flight crew – bypassed the agent sent to greet them, and headed straight to the parking lot. Clint scanned the lot and found one of their vehicles tucked in a back row – and couldn’t remember if they’d planned it that way, or if this was another example of Phil thinking eight steps ahead of them. {Do you want me to drive, Sunshine?}

{Please.} She carefully rolled her shoulder – it had been wrenched during the takedown earlier. It wasn’t serious – not even enough to call for Catriona – but it ached. {The baby agent is on his cell phone,} she reported, glancing back at the SHIELD agent they’d avoided. {Want to bet he’s calling the Director?}

Clint snorted. {As if a green agent like that would have a direct line to Fury. No. He’s probably trying to figure out how to tell his handler that we left him behind. Probably one of Sitwell’s by-the-book morons.}

{We must need to feed you,} Natasha shot back, amused. {You’re getting bitchy.} He shot her a glare as he steered the vehicle towards home. {I’m sure Phil has something ready at home.}

{I don’t doubt that.}

It didn’t take long for them to get home, or to carry their bags in through the garage to the house. Dinner preparations were underway, but Phil wasn’t in the kitchen. Curious, Clint dumped his gear on the floor and sought out their husband as Natasha checked oven and stove for what was on the menu.

He found Phil asleep in an armchair in the living room, one hand over his face and the other holding his cell phone. Clint paused in the doorway before crossing the room and kneeling at Phil’s feet. “Hey, Moonbeam. Wake up, love,” he said softly.

Phil jolted awake, hand clutching around the phone before he recognized the voice. All the tension bled out of his body and he extended his hands to Clint. “Achroi ghra,” Phil murmured. 

Clint rose and tugged Phil into a standing position before wrapping strong biceps around him and burying his head against that clean, pressed shirt. “We’re home safe, Moonbeam,” Clint whispered into the fabric.

Natasha entered from the kitchen, moving to stand behind Phil, her arms sliding around his waist and her cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder. “Can dinner take care of itself so that we can get a nap now, loverling?”

“Yes.” Phil relaxed between them, his hands coming up to caress them both. “I didn’t mean to doze off without you.”

“You’re allowed,” Clint reassured him, running a hand up to the nape of Phil’s neck.

Phil chuckled, and pulled away enough to indicate that he wanted to head upstairs to their bedroom. “I know that, pretty bird… but I sleep better with you two here.”

It could have sounded cheesy – but it was a truth both Clint and Natasha recognized. They’d tried to sleep on the flight home, only to discover a Phil-shaped absence between them. “I want a quick shower, some lounge clothes, a very fast snack, and then to curl up with my husbands,” Natasha told them, tugging on each of them until they turned to her long enough for a chaste kiss. “Deal?”

“I’ll grab snacks – I took a shower earlier.” Phil couldn’t resist another kiss before he nudged them towards the stairs while he detoured to the kitchen.

Clint and Natasha showered together – too tired for foreplay, but wanting the intimacy. Clad in clean, soft clothes they returned to the bedroom to find Phil changing into his own lounge wear –flannel pants and a worn t-shirt. “I can’t seem to find the top for these,” Phil gestured at his plaid pants. “Either of you steal it lately?”

“Not me,” Clint denied, making a beeline for the tray Phil had brought up – baking powder biscuits, lightly toasted and drizzled with honey. “Goddess, you spoil us.”

“I do my best.” Phil snagged Clint for a brief kiss before the archer could pick up a biscuit, turning to do the same to Natasha. “And you, my love? When I wash the clothes in your mission bag, am I going to pull out a flannel shirt you’ve stolen from me?”

Natasha kissed back, leaning into the hand he was feathering through her hair. “No.” Then she flushed, in embarrassment and a little guilt. “Just one of your old ties. I use it to hold my knife case shut.”

He chuckled, releasing her so that she could grab something to eat as well. “I knew about that one, love. Not just any tie, but the purple one Clint gave me years ago – on your first SHIELD signing anniversary, wasn’t it pretty bird?”

Clint shook his head, licking honey from his fingers. “Wasn’t my SHIELD anniversary. Was the day I started working for you.” He smiled, that charming hesitancy that made Phil want to scoop him up and kiss all over his face. “I figured after surviving a year as my handler, you’d earned a present.”

“You never wore it, so… I thought it was okay,” Natasha said quietly.

“Oh, it is,” Phil assured her quickly. “I’m afraid I had to… retire it.” Clint and Natasha exchanged looks, then turned expectant eyes on him. He chuckled as he folded back the covers of the bed and slid into the sheets. “I may have worn it often enough that certain people noticed, and they may have made some pointed remarks about it…”

Clint’s eyebrows shot up. “You never told me that. I thought you stained it or something.”

“No, pretty bird.” Phil caught his hand as Clint slid into bed next to him. “An agent I trusted – Doug Martin, actually, one of the two that wound up with CJ – took me aside and told me if I didn’t want all of SHIELD to know I was carrying a torch for a certain archer, I might want to limit the purple in my wardrobe.”

Natasha eased in on Phil’s other side, rolling her shoulder again to ease the ache. “How long ago was that?” There was something in her tone that had him turning more fully to face her – and he caught the flicker of insecurity in her eyes.

“A while ago,” he said rather vaguely – but the timeline didn’t matter, ultimately. “It was the same week, actually, that Rumlow told me I should stop supervising your training bouts, if I couldn’t keep my eyes off your assets.”

“He didn’t!” Her righteous indignation almost covered the flood of relief she felt.

Phil chuckled and pulled her close. “He used different words,” he admitted. “But the message was the same.”

~ * ~


	37. Chapter 37

Misty let herself and Maria in through the front door of the dojo – quietly, but not silently. If the triad was upstairs asleep, she didn’t want to wake them… but she didn’t want to sneak up on them, either. The ground floor of the house was empty, so they moved into the kitchen to check on dinner preparations.

“We’re early,” Maria reminded Misty gently, pointing at the clock. It was barely seven; they weren’t due to eat dinner for another hour.

“But not unexpected.” She pointed to a note on the counter.

 _If we aren’t up when you get here, stir the stew and make yourselves at home. We will be down by 7:30._ It was signed by Phil, but at the bottom Clint had added a message. _If it’s the grasshopper that’s here first, Nat owes me $10._

“I suppose I’m predictable.” Misty flashed a small smile. “I just… needed to be near them, I guess.” She mistook Maria’s snort of amusement for one of offense. “Not that you aren’t – not that I don’t need you – ”

Maria interrupted her by sliding her arms around Misty’s waist from behind, pulling the blonde towards her until she could press her cheek against the soft hair. “I know, bunny. I’ve missed them too. It’s alright. I know what you mean.”

Misty wrapped her arms around Maria’s, leaning back against the solid warmth. “Are you sure you’re okay with what we talked about earlier?”

“Whatever you need, bunny.” Misty made an impatient noise and Maria chuckled into her ear. “I think you’re making the right choice about the training courses, bunny. I support you.”

“Think sensei will?”

“Yes.” Maria caught herself nuzzling the hair behind Misty’s ear when she answered, and reluctantly released the squad leader. “It’s the Scoobies we’re going to get flak from.”

The front door opened and closed, and CJ entered the kitchen cautiously. “It’s just us,” Misty informed him from the counter. “I think the triad’s still in bed.”

CJ nodded his understanding but didn’t halt at the stools as he normally did, continuing straight towards them until he had wrapped both arms around Misty and burrowed his head into her shoulder.

“Whoa,” Misty blurted, her arms coming up to hold him lightly – enough for him to feel her presence but hopefully not enough to make him feel trapped. “Hey, I’m okay, faireoir. I promise, I’m okay.”

He turned his face towards Maria, his head still against Misty, and she interpreted that as a desire for her assurances as well. Gingerly – not wanting to overwhelm him – Maria put a comforting hand on his back, between his shoulders. She didn’t speak – she had no idea what to say – but her touch seemed to be what he needed.

It was ten minutes by Maria’s watch before CJ eased himself back from them. He looked embarrassed, but Misty put one hand on his face and shook her head. “No shame, CJ.”

“I just… I really missed you.” He shifted on his feet, and for the first time, Misty let herself think of him as the sixteen-year-old that he was, rather than the nineteen-year-old he purported to be.

Misty stroked his cheek gently. “Dhearthair beag,” she said affectionately, her thumb running over his cheekbone. “I missed you too. I missed everyone, but you’re my favorite.”

Maria wasn’t really surprised when CJ moved back into Misty’s arms at that comment – but the lack of jealousy she felt did surprise her. She leaned over to press a chaste kiss to CJ’s forehead before exchanging a smile with Misty and letting them have some privacy.

She considered that as she wandered around the living room, admiring knick-knacks and family photos. Perhaps it was that she knew there was nothing romantic about CJ’s feelings for Maria. Though she wasn’t privy to the details, she knew CJ’s past involved sexual abuse – he’d been fairly open about that much. He never dated and showed no interest in men or women – not even an appreciative glance in the sparring ring. And while she wouldn’t have been surprised if a previously uninterested individual found something appealing in her bunny… that hadn’t been the impression she’d gotten, when CJ reached for them.

Hearing footsteps on the front steps, Maria moved to the door and opened it before the guest could reach for the doorbell. “Triad’s still upstairs,” she said at Chuck’s surprise. “If they’re asleep, we didn’t want to wake them.”

He handed her the case of beer he’d brought – a domestic brand that some of them preferred – and hefted a wooden crate filled with bottles of a craft beer. Maria was so accustomed to Chuck bringing beer to dinner that she didn’t think to caution him about Misty’s reaction to it. “Good call. Who all’s here?” He followed her inside, kicking his shoes off underneath the side table and adding his car keys to the small collection there.

“Misty and CJ are in the kitchen,” Maria answered. CJ came into view and offered to take the case from Maria. CJ’s eyes were just barely reddened – enough that Maria noticed, but not so much that she dared mention it. Chuck raised one eyebrow when he disappeared back into the kitchen, and Maria shook her head. Whatever had happened between her bunny and CJ was private – almost sacred, Maria added with only a hint of humor. She wasn’t going to involve anybody else.

Instead, she led Chuck into the kitchen, where Misty was carefully testing the contents of a pot on the stove and consulting a battered, stained cookbook that was open on the counter. “Sensei’s going to kick your ass if you screw up dinner,” Chuck warned.

Misty laughed. “I’m following Mama Diane’s recipe, don’t worry.” She pretended not to notice the surprise on both Chuck and CJ’s faces at her address for Phil’s mother. “Her instructions include exactly how it’s supposed to look and taste at various stages. Even Cuz can follow her recipes and manage something edible.”

“Mmmhmm. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He tucked a few bottles of craft beer into the fridge before using the bottle opener magnet to open one for himself. “You want a beer, Buffy?”

Maria intercepted the bottle before it could get within three feet of Misty, but apparently the smell traveled faster than her hand. Misty’s eyes went wide and she raised a hand to cover her mouth and nose. “No,” she managed. “Thank you.”

Chuck pulled the bottle away from Maria, took stock of Misty’s expression, and opened the back door to dump the beer out. He returned and rinsed out the bottle before putting it in the glass recycle bin. “Sorry. You should tell us this shit, Buff. I wouldn’t have opened it if I knew it bugged you.”

Maria slipped her arm around Misty’s waist, feeling the lingering tension. “You okay, bunny?”

“I will be.” Misty leaned into the familiar comfort and closed her eyes. “Sorry, Chuckles. Just – no alcohol where I can smell it, okay? It’s. Um.” Misty bit her lip. “It’s a panic attack trigger for me.”

Before anyone could answer, they heard a car door in the driveway. Chuck moved to intercept before the doorbell could ring.

“Anything I can do?” CJ asked, touching Misty’s hand. 

She turned her hand beneath his fingers until she could interlace them. “You’re doing it. Just. Maybe you guys could tell the others about that particular landmine?”

“Not a problem, bunny,” Maria assured her. “The one most likely to complain was Chuck anyway, and he looked mortified to have upset you.”

“Goddess, I hate having triggers.” Abandoning the cookbook, she turned in the curve of Maria’s arm until she could bury her head in Maria’s shoulder. CJ stepped close enough to keep Misty’s hand in his, looking concerned. His body was also blocking the view of their embrace from the entrance to the kitchen, and Maria couldn’t decide if he’d done it intentionally or not.

Lance and Angie entered behind Chuck a moment later, good-naturedly bickering about a movie. Misty eased away from Maria but didn’t pull away entirely. CJ’s hand slipped out of hers, but he didn’t move far away. If anything, he seemed to be hovering.

~ * ~

“The kids are here,” Phil murmured to his spouses as they lay curled together on their king size bed. “At least some of them.”

“I know,” Natasha said sleepily. Phil felt a surge of tenderness – there were very few people on this planet who got to see Natasha Romanoff warm and sleepy… to see her without her masks, without any pretenses.

On Phil’s other side, Clint grumbled. That didn’t surprise or irritate Phil – Clint always grumbled about getting out of bed, regardless of what waited. (Except, he amended, on Christmas. Then it was entirely the other way around.) “They’re early.”

Phil chuckled and pulled Clint close enough for a kiss. “Unless I miss my guess, one of them is the grasshopper – and we should count ourselves lucky that she didn’t just invite herself to sleep here this afternoon.”

“Wouldn’t have minded,” Natasha mumbled. “Missed her.”

“I expect the feeling is mutual.” Phil leaned over to kiss her as well, finding her still drowsy and warm. 

One kiss turned into another, until Clint tugged at the arm Phil still had around him. “Not that I’m not interested, Moonbeam, but the kids are downstairs… and I don’t want to find out whether they’re brave enough to come looking for us.”

Natasha propped herself up on her elbow to look at Clint over Phil’s chest. “They aren’t.” 

But it was enough of a threat to have Phil sighing and flinging back the covers. “We should join them,” he said reluctantly, starting to slide over Clint’s body. That was the downside to being in the middle, Phil thought to himself – no easy exit point.

“You’re testing my self-control,” Clint muttered as Phil moved. “Great Merciful Mother, I am never going to get tired of this.” He had halted Phil’s movement with a hand to Phil’s waistband – his fingers sliding up under the t-shirt, tracing over the muscles that his suits hid.

“I thought you didn’t want to risk it,” Phil asked, looking down at Clint with laughter in his eyes. Natasha scooted closer, until she could press up against them both.

Clint switched one hand from a contemplation of Phil’s muscles to a tactile appreciation of their wife’s, stretching up to kiss Phil firmly. “I reserve the right to change my mind, when you climb over me like this.”

Phil was almost persuaded when the doorbell rang. He groaned, leaning down to press his forehead against Clint’s. “We can’t really pretend to sleep through that, lovebird.”

“Meddling kids,” Clint grumbled – but in good humor. “Alright. Get off me before I get distracted again. Goddess, you two are enough to drive a Saint to sin.”

“Gaia doesn’t have Saints, dearling,” Natasha reminded him, her lips twitching with amusement. “And She doesn’t consider sex a sin.”

“And I thank Her for that regularly,” Clint agreed fervently. He rose behind Phil and stretched. “I’m putting jeans on in self-defense,” he said loftily to his husband. “If I go down there in sweat pants, you might lose your self-control and jump me in front of the kids.”

Phil swiveled and pinched his rear. “Whereas if I put jeans on, I’ll be at the same risk… from both of you.” He grinned when Clint swatted his hand away, but neither of them disagreed. “All the same, I’d rather not cook in flannel.” He shucked out of his pajamas and into a pair of khakis – amused at the squawk of protest from Clint.

Natasha didn’t bother changing – she’d been wearing a pair of purple yoga pants and an oversized black t-shirt – and just blew them a kiss as she headed down the stairs.

“Sorry!” Sam was saying as she hugged Chuck at the door. “I didn’t think not to ring the bell.”

“It’s alright,” Natasha assured her, stepping close enough for a hug of her own. “We should be getting up anyway.” Chuck looked her up and down, a mischievous smile on his face. Natasha tapped his nose with her index finger. “No, we weren’t,” she told him loftily. “We needed a nap as much as anyone. I can’t tell you what mission we were on, but it was no milk run.”

“Wouldn’t have expected it to be one,” Raj said, coming up behind Sam in the doorway. Al was at his heels. “Not if the Director ordered you back in the wee hours of the night. You’re favoring your shoulder, Nat.” He reached for her before he’d even finished pointing that out, and she submitted to his gentle exam with good grace.

Clint clambered down the stairs, Phil following more gracefully. “She tells me it’s nothing,” Clint informed Raj. “She wouldn’t even let me call Catriona.”

“It’s fine, dearling,” Natasha reassured him – both telepathically and verbally. “Just tender.”

“Nothing time, rest, and a beer won’t cure,” Raj pronounced, offering Natasha a smile.

“No beer,” Chuck and Natasha said in unison. After a quick raised eyebrow, Chuck continued. “Misty’s… really sensitive to the smell. I opened one and it barely got within a yard of her before she turned green. Says it’s a panic attack trigger. We’re sticking to unleaded beverages tonight.”

“And for however long it takes her to feel comfortable,” Phil added firmly. He slid one arm around the waist of each of his spouses, gently tugging until they were walking into the kitchen. “It took me months after being slipped a mickey not to feel nauseous every time I smelled a martini. I’d still rather have anything but that… even if I did come out of that debacle better off than I’d gone in.”

Misty looked up from the stove where she was stirring the stew. “That’s only because cuz and nascha got to you before that truth serum slash psychedelic got you to spill your secrets to ducks.”

“Hand over the wooden spoon, laoch beag, and come give me a hug,” Natasha ordered. Misty grinned and passed the spoon to Phil before wrapping her arms around Natasha.

Angie had both eyebrows raised and was looking between Phil and Misty with a shocked expression. “Slipped a mickey? You?”

Phil raised an eyebrow in return, though his expression was solemn. “Yes. A year and a half ago – almost two.”

“But…” Angie’s protest was almost silent, but her eyes were loud enough – shaken, and confused.

CJ slid through the crush of people – the kitchen really wasn’t large enough for all twelve of them, but none of them wanted to be in different rooms – and put a hand on Angie’s arm. “I told you it could happen to anyone, bleachtaire,” he said quietly. 

“But…” she repeated.

Chuck slid an arm around her waist, hoping he wasn’t crossing any lines. She hadn’t rebuffed his physical reassurances underground, and he wasn’t intending it to be sexual. “Hard to wrap your head around the idea of the Legendary Agent Coulson getting dosed?”

“In a bar,” Phil added, his attention still ostensibly on dinner. “The same gay bar, actually, that Misty was dosed at – though we don’t know yet if there is a connection.”

Misty had moved from Natasha’s arms to Clint’s, and shuddered when Phil spoke of her assault so bluntly. “Sensei, can we not talk about that tonight?” she asked plaintively.

He turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Of course.” He knocked the spoon against the edge of the pan, laid it in a spoon rest, and crossed to add his arms to Clint’s and press a kiss to her forehead. “Sorry, grasshopper.”

“You’re channeling Papa Alex again,” Maria said dryly, waving at the forehead kiss. Misty giggled.

Phil retaliated by echoing the kiss, this time to Maria’s forehead. “There are a lot worse people on this planet to emulate than my parents,” he said tartly. “And when it’s just clan – I’m done not showing how much I care, alright? Flinch back from it if you must,” he added, when he saw discomfort in a few pairs of eyes. “Not holding back anymore.”

“Easy, Moonbeam.” Clint moved one arm from around Misty to Phil’s waist. “You’re scaring the Scoobies.” In response, Phil curled closer to Clint, letting his head fall onto his husband’s shoulder.

CJ had returned to the stove after Chuck took over comforting Angie and resumed his self-appointed task. He’d started the kettles – it took two large ones to make enough boiling water for each of them to have a cup – shortly after he’d arrived, and had selected a sachet of tea for each of them from the organized wooden box Catriona had provided. SereniTea for some – UniTea, which is what Catriona had finally decided to call the clan blend, for others. After a quick survey of his chief, he opted against the headache blend dubbed RemeTea for Phil and chose instead a teabag from the slot labeled ‘Tension Tamer.’ He sweetened each cup with honey or sugar as his clanmates preferred before handing the steaming mugs around.

The sharpshooter handed Phil his mug, waiting until his chief’s hands closed around the mug before covering them with his own. “It’s okay, boss,” CJ said quietly. “You don’t have to hold back. Not when it’s just us.” He squeezed Phil’s hands once more before releasing them. “If it’s all the same to you, though, I’d rather you not kiss my forehead in the middle of the mess hall.”

“Duly noted.” There was humor in Phil’s tone now – and gratitude.

“Damn, can you imagine the reactions?” Chuck mused, leaning back against the counter. “Fury’d shit a brick.”

Lance carefully modulated his expression – because the image of Phil kissing CJ’s forehead in the middle of the cafeteria reignited his worries about their youngest agent’s relationship to their chief. He filed it away – the more frequent physical contact, the verbal expressions of affection – and resolved to spend some time on it later.

Misty watched CJ with her head tilted slightly to one side, missing Maria’s amused smile at her resemblance to a curious puppy. She hadn’t expected him to be so… nurturing. He hadn’t, to her knowledge, acted like this before – and abruptly she wondered just what else had changed, while her squad was trapped underground. She saw Lance’s reaction as well, but couldn’t explain it either. Damn, you wouldn’t think that she’d have missed that much in just a week… but it appeared her ducks wasn’t the only one who’d done a lot of growing in the recent past.

Someone’s – in the crush of people, it was hard to tell whose – stomach grumbled, loudly enough to make Phil laugh. “Time for dinner.” With practiced ease, various clan members grabbed plates and napkins, utensils and condiments. By the time he carried the large stew pot into the dining room and placed it on the trivet that had been laid down, the table was set and everyone had a beverage. He slid a ladle into the pot and smiled around the table. His mother would be impressed, he thought – it had taken her a lot longer to train he and his sisters in the art of anticipating her in the kitchen.

Maria reached over and touched the corner of Phil’s eye. “Your niece calls this your happy eye squinch,” she informed him. “And apparently, it used to be reserved for the babies.” It had also been one of the points in Maria’s favor, as far as Lily was concerned – that Phil got that expression now, when he talked about the clan. 

“That sounds like a Lily observation.” Phil gestured for CJ to ladle himself some stew – youngest dished out first, at his table. He hoped – someday – for that ‘happy eye squinch’ to be used on babies again – but he didn’t say it aloud.

“I have got to meet this girl.” CJ handed the ladle over to Angie. “Both girls – they sound pretty awesome.”

“They are,” Misty and Maria said in unison. Misty flashed an amused look at her ducks before being offered the ladle by Sam. Misty obediently filled her bowl and picked up her spoon – Phil didn’t stand on ceremony any more than his parents did – but couldn’t bring herself to take a bite. As her teammates continued filling their bowls, Misty looked down at hers with a scowl. She was hungry, she had seen CJ try the stew already – hell, she’d stirred it herself while it was on the stove. But she couldn’t seem to make herself take a bite.

Casually, Maria leaned over and took a generous spoonful from Misty’s bowl. She blew on it briefly before tasting, making a soft noise of pleasure. “Almost as good as your dad’s,” Maria told Phil with a mischievous smile.

“I’d argue, but I like his better too.” Phil returned the smile, but his eyes were on Misty – and concerned.

Misty blew out a breath and dug into the stew. It was stupid that she’d needed Maria to taste it first – and it pissed her off, that she needed it. It brought to mind all of the other fun new personality quirks she’d developed since her attack. And bringing those to mind… Misty cleared her throat, loudly enough to signal that she wanted to speak. She shouldn’t have been surprised when all eyes turned to her, but it still made her recoil. Maria slid a comforting hand to the small of her back. “I. Um. I want to sign up for handler training, take a more administrative role for a while.” There was an immediately protest, but Misty raised one hand and the noise subsided. “I’ve been thinking about it, and… and I don’t trust myself in the field right now.” She gave up pretending to eat and reached for Maria, tangling their fingers together under the table. “I know you guys don’t either.”

“That’s not true,” Chuck protested. “We all trust you, Buffy.”

“It isn’t lack of faith in your skills that scares me, Misty.” Lance’s voice was quiet. “I know – in my head – that you can do the job. But… my heart wants to protect you, and I’m afraid that I’d make the wrong call in the field, if I were in a position where I had to choose between your safety and the success of the mission.” Maria met Lance’s eyes, letting him see the same worry in her. Several of the Scoobies were nodding.

Misty’s hand tightened in Maria’s. “I appreciate that. Both the trust and the honesty, crann taca. And I know it’s unexpected but – I think it’s for the best.”

“No one volunteers for handler training, grasshopper.” Phil’s voice was soft. “There will be questions.”

“I’m volunteering,” Misty said firmly. “Look, it’s where I’d end up anyway… maybe not for a few years, but we both know how rare good handlers are… and I think I can be one.” She looked down into her stew, suddenly unsure. “Do you?”

“Of course I do,” Phil said immediately. “And you’re right, it’s a rare gift to be a natural handler. It’s one of the reasons I recruited you. And yes, it was the path I’d hoped to put you on but not… not yet. I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

Misty lifted her eyes, making eye contact with each of her team before settling her gaze on Phil. “I know you didn’t, sensei.”

Angie was watching them thoughtfully. “You know… scuttlebutt thinks the reason Misty disappeared from SHIELD is because she was involved in the fracas between Verley and Maria… like she was an accomplice. It would be easy enough to get people to think you were getting handler training as punishment for that, Buffy.”

“Fracas?” Clint repeated, his lips twitching.

Their tech analyst stuck out her tongue at him. “I can’t call it a catfight because Verley’s a dude. Maybe beatdown is better.”

Maria shook her head. “As long as scuttlebutt doesn’t know what it is he said that pushed me over the edge…” It was her turn to squeeze Misty’s hand for comfort. “And no, I’m not repeating it to the rest of you, either.” She looked around the table, one eyebrow raised. “If it could make me lose my temper, I’d had to see what it would do to the rest of you.”

“Speaking of tempers…” Natasha cleared her throat. “Now that everyone’s gotten at least a little sleep and some food…”

“Ah, hell.” Chuck slumped in his chair. “Alright.” He ran a hand down his face. “Look, I know you’ve got to do it and so does Clint, and I’m not saying we don’t deserve it but – let me take the blame here, Nat. Please.”

“No.” Natasha’s voice was deceptively pleasant. “I respect that you want to protect your team, cumainn – but this isn’t about SHIELD policy.”

Clint took up the narrative seamlessly – too seamlessly for them not to be communicating telepathically. “I’m sure Phil could list section, chapter, and verse of the SHIELD regs you broke.” He quirked an eyebrow at their husband, who nodded. “He can also probably tell you how many of the ones you broke I’ve broken myself.”

“All of the same ones, at one point or another,” Phil murmured.

“I get that policies don’t always fit with reality,” Clint continued. “I get that sometimes you’ve got to think quickly – adjust to the situation. But when Nat and I break regs, it’s because we’ve thought through what it would mean to follow them… and we generally break them to keep from hurting the people we love. And that’s where you fucked up.” Clint made eye contact with each of the people at the table in turn. “I get that you didn’t know you were walking into a booby trapped secret lab underground – but you knew damned well you were going to a dangerous part of the city. We were here at home when you guys left SHIELD – hell, we weren’t even in bed yet. I’m not saying you need to let one of us know every time you leave the building but – ”

Natasha reached for the hand he was waving in distress and pulled it down, wrapping her fingers around his wrist so that she could feel his pulse – racing, again. “We know – intellectually – that it wasn’t any of your intention, but it feels a hell of a lot like you lot either didn’t trust us enough to tell us what you were investigating… or you didn’t think we care enough about you to need to know where you are.”

“And that hurts – as much as we worried, I think the hurt is worse,” Clint added. He kept his eyes down, watching Natasha’s thumb move over the inside of his wrist. “So yeah, I’m mad as hell. So is Nat. But we’re also hurting. I can’t speak for Phil, but – ”

“You can in this,” Phil interrupted, reaching for Clint’s other hand. “I understand your reluctance to involve Agent Coulson in your off-books investigation… but your chief would prefer not to be excluded.”

The seven Scoobies who had participated in last night’s adventure were looking stricken. After an exchange of glances, it was Lance who spoke next. “Honestly, I didn’t believe the lead was anything. Sorry, Raj,” he added, glancing at their medic. “I thought we were just making a detour before dinner. I didn’t realize how rough the neighborhood was until we got there.”

“And why didn’t you text somebody then?” Misty pressed. “If you didn’t want to bother the triad at home – Lancelot, why not message me? Or Maria?”

Lance gave her an incredulous look. “Buffy, be reasonable.”

“I’m trying, but you’re pissing me off.”

“What the hell was I supposed to say?” Lance laid his spoon down, glaring across the table at Misty. “Hi Buffy, I realize you’re half the country away but I thought I’d let you know we’re stopping by a derelict warehouse to see if we can find out about the juice you were dosed with – and then we’re all going to go get burgers because none of us have had time to eat all day because we’re doing two jobs at once – our regular SHIELD jobs, and trying to investigate your assault entirely off the record and doing a piss-poor job of it because none of us are fucking detectives – not that you’d be surprised that we haven’t made much progress considering you didn’t even think we were working it!” By his final shout, he was on his feet with his hands fisted at his side. 

Before Misty could respond, Chuck rose and put a restraining hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Did you sleep this afternoon, Lance?” the squad second asked, more gently than his clan expected. Lance tried to shrug out from under the hand, but Chuck merely tightened his grip.

“No,” Lance admitted, avoiding the larger man’s gaze. His anger had faded as quickly as it had appeared, and he slumped in exhaustion now. “I needed to follow-up on – ”

Misty rose and rounded the table. She caught Lance’s chin in her hand and forced him to make eye contact with her. “Lance Allen Mackey. I do not expect you to single-handedly investigate and solve my assault.” Her voice was quiet and firm. “I do not expect you to put your life on hold for it. I definitely do not expect nor desire you to sacrifice your health for it. Do I make myself understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Duly chastened, he made to drop his eyes from hers but she shook his chin firmly.

“You’re right, I didn’t think you – any of you – were investigating,” Misty continued calmly. Maria had to fight her instincts to follow Misty around the table – to wrap her arm around her bunny – but stayed in her seat. “And I should have known better, crann taca an teaglach – as you should have.” The hand on his chin gentled, and she rubbed her thumb against him in an affectionate caress before releasing him and turning to the table. “Chuckles and I talked about this briefly. It appears that despite loving each other – yes, I know, I used the l-word – like family, we aren’t doing a very good job of trusting each other like one – not really.” She met Maria’s eyes and a small smile crept into her expression. “I’ve recently been treated to watching a really spectacular family operate – spending a week with the Coulson coterie was eye-opening in a lot of ways.”

A chuckle slipped from Phil’s lips and he tried to cover it with a cough. When Misty’s eyes fell on his, he shook his head. “Spending time with my family is always an education, grasshopper… I just am not always sure it’s a positive lesson.”

“Nuh-uh. No bad-mouthing Mama Diane or Papa Alex,” Misty insisted. This time Clint noticed her name for Phil’s father – noticed, and rather liked it. “Your dad might be tact deficient, but he isn’t mean. And your mom…”

“Mama Diane is awesome,” Clint agreed.

“She is.” Misty gave Lance’s shoulder a squeeze before returning to her seat next to Maria. “But that’s not really the point I was trying to make. We – all of us – we let the clan thing blind us to the difference between being a team and being a family. I trust any of you in the field – no questions. Hands down.” She reached for Maria’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Trusting one of you with the personal stuff? Talking about my mom, or an ex-boyfriend, or even just… how I’m feeling? That’s a lot harder.” She looked down at her hand, intertwined with Maria’s. “But I want us to have that. All of us. It’s… I’ve had a taste of it, now. Saw what it can be like, and I want it. I know it’s not easy – I mean, even with Phil’s family it’s not easy. But I’m ready to try… with anybody else who’s willing.”

It was quiet for a moment before Al spoke. “If this is what comes of spending time at the Rainbow Inn, perhaps we should arrange a rotating vacation schedule. I, for one, could use some of this inner clarity.” It broke the awkwardness, and Misty met Al’s eyes long enough to convey her gratitude. 

Phil’s chuckle turned into an outright laugh as he considered cycling the Scoobies through the Inn. “My mother would have a field day,” he managed to say, still chuckling. “And that’s nothing compared to the flower girls.”

~ * ~


	38. Chapter 38

It was nearly midnight before the clan’s collective yawns prompted Natasha to set aside the volume of Harry Potter she’d been reading aloud from and urge them all to head home. Misty was almost stumbling with exhaustion again before Maria managed to get her into the passenger seat of the SUV.

“You okay, bunny?” Maria asked once she’d buckled herself in the driver’s seat and headed towards Misty’s apartment.

“Surprisingly, yeah.” Misty covered another yawn with her hand. “Honestly, I expected to have a full-fledged freak out tonight, and I’m kind of stunned that I didn’t.”

Maria slid her eyes to her bunny briefly before returning them to the road. “I’m not one to say I told you so, but didn’t I?” Misty snorted. “That was one of my Gran’s favorite sayings. Stands true on this one, though – I was pretty sure you’d be fine with your clanmates.”

“You have more faith in me than I do.”

Hearing the real self-doubt beneath Misty’s attempt at humor, Maria reached for her hand and twined their fingers together. “It makes up for the extra faith you have in me.”

Misty’s expression softened, and she squeezed Maria’s hand. With the senior agent’s eyes safely on the road, Misty let herself gaze at the brunette. They were nearly to her apartment before Misty spoke again. “It’s Friday that will be the real test.” She dropped her eyes to their joined hands. “It’s one thing for me to make it through a family dinner with you by my side but – ”

Maria risked another sideways glance and shifted her hand in Misty’s until she could rub her thumb in soothing circles on the back of her hand. “I won’t be far, bunny. You say the word, and I ditch my office to get to wherever you are.”

“Yes, because that will really give my squad confidence in my abilities,” Misty retorted – but there was gratitude beneath the sarcasm. “It’s more the training I’m worried about,” she confessed. “I know the next handler class starts Monday – I’ll need to meet with whoever the trainer is going to be on Friday, and… ducks, what if I can’t keep it together? I can’t just… I can’t count on you to keep rescuing me.”

Maria was glad that they had pulled in their apartment building’s parking lot, because replying to that comment was far too important to do and drive at the same time. “Bunny.” Maria twisted in her seat until she was facing Misty. “You can.” At Misty’s raised eyebrow, Maria tried again. “You can count on me.”

“And how am I supposed to explain it, when I lock myself in a closet and nobody but you can talk me out of it?” She was trying to sound sarcastic, and it wasn’t working.

“You don’t have to explain a damned thing,” Maria told her firmly. “Let people think whatever they want, bunny. Hell, I don’t care if they think I’m your dominatrix… not if it means being there when you need me.”

Misty blinked, her eyebrows drawing together. That was… that was unexpected, to say the very least. It had only been two weeks since Maria broke the cheekbone of another agent for suggesting Maria was sleeping with Phil… and Misty. This was a hell of a change – but she couldn’t see any hesitation in Maria’s expression… just an emotion that she didn’t dare put a name to – didn’t dare admit that she felt, too.

“Let’s get some sleep, bunny,” Maria urged, when Misty didn’t answer. She released the blonde’s hand and climbed out of the SUV, coming around to the other side to help Misty. “Come on, bedtime for bunnies.”

“Only if it’s bedtime for ducks, too,” Misty murmured.

Maria smoothed a hand over Misty’s hair. “Of course.”

They readied for bed in comfortable silence, a routine that already felt familiar after a mere week. Misty sank onto the bed first, pulling her comforter up under her chin as she watched Maria finish her nightly tasks. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“Unpack,” Maria answered absently. “Laundry. Grocery shopping. All the mundane crap I can take care of before we go back to work on Friday.” She lifted the comforter up and slid in next to Misty, not surprised that the blonde immediately nestled against her side and tucked her nose into Maria’s neck. “Why, was there something you had in mind?”

Misty squirmed a bit, getting more comfortable. “I thought maybe we could go down to the Smithsonian for a bit. Maybe sit in on a lecture?”

Maria pulled Misty closer and wished she dared press a kiss to the blonde hair – or her forehead – or her lips. Misty hadn’t suggested that out of her interests – she’d remembered that Maria had mentioned it when they’d been at the Wisconsin Maritime Museum. “That would be great,” Maria said finally, when she thought she could keep her voice level.

The small curve of Misty’s lips against her told her that her bunny had seen right through her.

~ * ~

Thursday was the closest to domestic bliss that Maria had ever experienced. She’d never enjoyed washing laundry before – or tucking her clothes away in a drawer or hanging in the closet space Misty had freed up for her. Then it was off to the Smithsonian – where, instead of sitting through a lecture (which Maria would likely enjoy, but which Misty would have dozed off during) they explored the National Museum of American History. Even Misty was utterly charmed by the exhibits – the clerk’s desk where the Declaration of Independence was signed, Abraham Lincoln’s hat, Muhammad Ali’s boxing gloves… there was a little of everything, and between the two of them, they could have spent many more hours there.

By dinner time, though, Maria was ready to get her bunny home and fed. Even though there was less stress in Misty’s face than she’d expected… well, Maria was feeling it for her. There were too damned many people around, and none of them were being careful enough around her bunny – and even though Maria knew she was being irrationally protective, she couldn’t seem to stop.

It had been one thing to see her bunny surrounded by people in Wisconsin – where she knew they were hours and hundreds of miles from the location of Misty’s assault, and probably the perpetrator.

It was another thing entirely to suspect that the man who had hurt her bunny was somewhere in this city… and Maria had no way of knowing where he was, what he looked like, or what he wanted with her bunny.

“Maria.” Misty’s voice was firm – but there was a gentleness to it that prevented Maria from bristling. “You know, I’m supposed to be the one with hang-ups… not you.” She reached to cup her hand around Maria’s cheek, but changed it to a clasp of the shoulder at the last moment. “I’m okay, ducks. You can relax.”

Except that she couldn’t, not really. Not until they were home, and Maria had locked the door behind them – locked it, and wished there was more than one deadbolt. Maybe a security alarm.

“I’m sorry,” Maria said to Misty. She was leaning back against the closed apartment door, her eyes shut. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m… I don’t know, hovering. Smothering. I just… I need you to be safe.”

“You are hovering, ducks,” Misty informed her, very quietly. She wanted to protest that she could defend herself, but recent events called that into question. She wanted to deny feeling smothered, but she was already starting to chafe under the concern from her ducks and the rest of her clan. She wanted to be independent, but… “I’m letting you, because I need to feel safe, too.”

Maria made a small, pained noise and crossed the room to where Misty stood, wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde. “Can we go back to the Inn? Because everything seemed a lot easier there.”

“And the food was better,” Misty added, laughter in her voice. She nestled her head into Maria’s shoulder. “It was easier, ducks – we only had to be one self, there. Misty, and Maria.” She tried very hard not to blur the names together into one… Misty&Maria. “Here, we also have to be laoch beag and laoch scail… and Agent Hill and Agent Summers… and Buffy, and Deputy Director Hill, and grasshopper and Ria…” Misty trailed off, letting herself relax into the security of Maria’s arms. “As long as we’re also still ducks and bunny, we’ll be okay.”

~ * ~


	39. Chapter 39

“Mornings are evil,” Misty groaned when the alarm went off. Maria chuckled into her blonde hair.

“You want the shower first?” Maria offered. “I’ll start the coffee.”

Misty smiled blissfully at her. “You’re the best, ducks.” She wanted to press a kiss to Maria – but resisted. “I’ll be done in a jiffy.”

True to her word, Misty was showered and dressed in a clean uniform in under fifteen minutes. Maria handed her a cup of coffee as she passed to start her own routine, and less than forty minutes after the alarm had gone off, both women were in the SUV, headed to SHIELD HQ.

“This is weird,” Misty said finally, looking down at her cup. “I feel like it’s the first day at a new school… except it shouldn’t feel different.”

“I don’t know why not,” Maria said, glancing at her. “Maybe SHIELD hasn’t changed, but we have.”

“Good point.” Misty was silent the rest of the way in, and all the way up to Maria’s office. “I’ve got a meeting with Fury, and then one with the handler instructor.”

Maria wanted to be in on the meeting with Fury – and thought Misty probably wanted her there – but it wasn’t the kind of thing she could just tag along for. She opened the door to her office and found Angie sitting inside, tapping on a tablet. Their hacker stood and waited until the door was closed behind them before hugging both Misty and Maria. “Hey, so, I did a thing,” she said airily, and handed Maria the tablet. “It’s completely against regulations and probably some laws, but I did it anyway.”

“Of course you did.” She looked down at the tablet. “Why am I looking at a video feed of my office door?”

“Because I disabled the cameras inside your office, and the tablet is tracking Buffy.” Angie beamed at them. “I do the same thing for Sensei – he can pull up a video feed of Nat and Clint from his computer any time they’re in range of SHIELD cameras.”

Misty leaned over Maria’s shoulder to look at the tablet. “Why does she get to watch?”

Angie shrugged. “She needs to see you’re safe, you need to know you are safe… you want one of her?”

“No, this is good.” It was better than good. She felt tension ease in her shoulders. “Thanks, Ang.”

“I aim to please.” She beamed at them both, gave a purposefully sloppy salute, and exited the office.

Maria watched Angie leave on the tablet’s camera feed. “You sure you’re okay with this, bunny? It’s not… me being overbearing?”

“Did you ask her to do it?”

“No!” Maria’s eyebrows drew together. “I might have, if I’d remembered she could.”

Misty slid her arm around Maria’s waist and tucked her head into the familiar curve of her shoulder. “I’m okay with it. I’d have been okay with it if she’d asked me – or if you’d asked me – too. I like knowing you’ve got my back, even when I can’t see you.”

“Always,” Maria promised. She held Misty there for several minutes, both of them drawing strength from it. “What time is your meeting with Fury?”

Misty glanced at her watch. “About half an hour – and my meeting with Hand is at ten.”

“Agent Hand? Victoria Hand?” Maria asked. Misty nodded. “Huh. I didn’t realize she was teaching this cycle.”

“That a problem?”

Maria shook her head. “I don’t know if you’ll like her, necessarily – but she’s a damned fine agent, and a good teacher. Just… kind of by the book. Her and Phil used to get into it now and again about field ops – Hand’s by the book, and Phil’s…”

“Not,” Misty supplied. “Not when the book is wrong.”

“Exactly. Hand doesn’t approve of his methods… or of Nat and Clint. Too unconventional, too cowboy.” Maria shrugged the shoulder that Misty wasn’t cuddled into. “She might decide the same thing about you, because you’re Phil’s. Something to keep in mind.”

Misty wanted to argue that she wasn’t Phil’s, she was Maria’s… but that skirted around territory she wasn’t ready to traverse yet. “I’ll manage. I have to survive Fury first, anyway.”

~ * ~

“Agent Summers. Come in,” the director boomed. “Close the door behind you.”

Misty did as ordered and stood at parade rest in front of his desk. She was never sure whether she was supposed to make eye contact with the eye patch or not. Was avoiding it polite or rude?

Fury didn’t rise to his feet as Sensei would when someone entered his office. Instead, the Director leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin, looking piercingly at her. Misty felt a little like one of the museum exhibits that Maria was so captivated by… except she’d never seen that weirdly flickering eager light in her Maria’s eyes. “Tell me why I shouldn’t keep you on administrative leave,” he challenged.

Her immediate response – and the second and third – were quashed before they could escape her mouth. She wanted to wait until she could answer with logic and rational argument – but it wouldn’t come. When the silence drew out, she huffed a reluctant breath. “I need to work, sir,” she said finally. “Benching me now would just set back my recovery. At home, I sit and think and stew and dwell. There, I’m Misty Summers, rape victim. Here, I’m—”

“Agent Summers, Squad Leader,” Fury finished for her, nodding thoughtfully. He hadn’t realized how much like Phil the young agent was becoming – because that line of reasoning could have been plucked almost entirely from Phil Coulson’s plea to come back to work after the death of Agent Ken Price.

By rights, Fury could have put Coulson on leave for at least another two weeks – even though Price had gone rogue, Coulson had still shot and killed a SHIELD agent. Killing in the line of duty was difficult enough when it was an enemy combatant – killing someone who was or had been on the same side of the line was a whole other level of fucked up. Psych had wanted him to ban Coulson from any SHIELD work at all, not even administrative work, until he’d passed a battery of tests… and they hadn’t even known that it had been Phil shooting his traitorous lover.

But the plea in Phil’s eyes then, and the sheer truth of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to recover if he didn’t have something to cling to – that had resonated as deeply then as Agent Summer’s words did now. Still… he couldn’t let it pass without comment. “You trying to tell me you aren’t affected?”

“No, sir.” Misty kept her position as relaxed as she could manage, her hands clasped behind her back. She was thankful that the director couldn’t see the tremble in her hands. “I know I am not ready for full field missions – so does my team, and my handler. That’s why I’m signed up for the handler course.”

Fury tapped his index fingers together. “I know Coulson knows the full scope of what occurred – does your team?”

“A few of them do,” Misty answered softly. She didn’t like the way Fury was watching her – felt exposed and vulnerable. She wished she’d thought to bring something of Maria’s with her… her ducks’ habit of stealing clanmates’ clothes abruptly made sense. “The others know as much as they need to.” And could guess the rest – though she hoped they wouldn’t ask. She didn’t really want to have that conversation with Chuck, for instance… 

The Director continued to stare at her, watching the minute shifts in her expression. He wasn’t entirely certain why he wanted her off the roster (and was unaware of the flicker of blue light in his eye when he considered it) but he’d wanted an excuse to revoke her clearance. He’d have to find another one. He couldn’t deal with the fallout of a sexual harassment claim right now… and if he used her sexual assault to revoke her field clearance, he’d have a hell of a battle on his hands.

Fine. He’d find another way.

“You went UA,” Director Fury said after another moment of silent staring. “Your handler was able to excuse the absence, but it doesn’t absolve you from public consequences… unless you want to make the excuse public.” Misty tried to hide her flinch. “Your choice, Agent Summers – public punishment, or public excuse.”

It wasn’t much of a choice at all, and they both knew it. “Punishment, sir.”

“You will take that handler course – and you are restricted to in-house duty until cleared by both Medical and Psych,” Fury said finally. “Coulson had to pass both Medical and Psych to get back in the field after he was dosed, too.” Which Misty knew was true… but he’d been cleared by Medical before Fury had sent him on leave, and he could pass a Psych consult with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back. She didn’t think she had the same skill at finessing the truth.

“Yes, sir,” Misty acknowledged, with as respectful a bow of her head as she could manage. “I have a meeting with Agent Hand regarding the handler course this morning.”

“Good.” Fury tipped back in his chair, eye still fixed on her. “I don’t want to hear reports about your team’s effectiveness being limited by this, Summers. If having you in the field becomes a liability, I will bench you and deal with the backlash. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

* ~ *


	40. Chapter 40

Misty was able to control her trembling until she was back on the administrative floor. Hoping to avoid comment or speculation, she slipped in Maria’s office as quietly as she could and closed the door behind her, leaning back against it while seeking eye contact with her ducks.

Maria ended her phone call as soon as was practical and crossed the room to her, offering Misty her arms. Her bunny huddled close, pressing her face against Maria’s neck. They stood there silent for a few moments before Misty let out a long sigh and pulled away. Maria released her gradually, not really wanting her to go.

“Fury’s an asshole,” Misty muttered. “How the hell does Sensei put up with that?”

“Practice?” Maria shrugged. “Fury wasn’t always this difficult to work for. It’s been… the last few years, something’s been changing. I don’t think it’s just our team, either.”

Misty rubbed her hands up and down her own arms. “He makes me feel weird. Not – not like – not personally threatened, but like there’s a weird energy around him. Like a static charge.”

“Hmm.” Maria gave in to her desire and gathered Misty back up in her arms, grateful that her bunny didn’t resist. “I hate to admit how much I agree with that.” And how strongly she wanted to keep Misty as far away from him as possible. “When’s your meeting with Hand?”

“Ten.” She’d already told her ducks that once – not remembering it was a pretty good clue that Maria was as off-kilter as she was this morning. “I have to go.” But Misty didn’t want to leave the safety of Maria’s office… or her arms.

It wasn’t easy for Maria to release her, either. “Alright.” She smoothed Misty’s blonde hair down with a gentle hand. “Meet you in the mess hall at noon? Unless you need me before then?”

“Deal.” For a dizzying moment, Misty leaned into Maria’s hand, and it would have been so easy… so right… to close the few inches between them and press their lips together… A knock on the door ended the moment, and Misty pulled away to open it. “See you at lunch, Hill,” Misty said over her shoulder as she passed Agent Sitwell in the doorway.

It was a very long two hours for Maria, and she blessed Angie’s forethought in providing the video surveillance. After finding herself checking it every three minutes, Maria finally propped the tablet up next to her computer monitor where she could see it as she worked. That, at least, stilled the flutters of unease in her stomach.

She left the tablet on her desk when it was finally time to meet Misty for lunch and stopped by Phil’s office long enough to steal a sachet of headache tea from the canister on his counter. He was on the phone and merely waved at her as she passed through. Gathering a tray, she searched the room for her bunny and found Misty already seated in a corner, picking at a salad. Maria joined her, trying not to sit unusually close, and dumped a roast beef sandwich on her tray. “I know it’s not Diane’s cooking, but you need more than rabbit food, bunny,” Maria murmured.

Misty looked up at her, eyes lighting up. “You do realize what you said, right?” She grinned. “Rabbit food? You didn’t even do it on purpose!” she crowed, when Maria looked blank. “Oh, I am so telling Sensei,” Misty giggled.

“Whatever it takes to get you to eat that sandwich,” Maria said drily. “Humor me.”

“Oh, I am.” Misty grinned and unwrapped the sandwich. She took a bite and made a face. “Totally spoiled me, they have. I may never be satisfied with less than Coulson cooking.”

“Any of them except Sarah,” Maria agreed, taking a bite out of her own ham-and-cheddar. They were mostly silent then – occasionally commenting on a passing agent – when Mason Verley halted at their table. The bruising was healing well, Maria thought. It was less obvious now that he’d gotten the crap beat out of him – but it still looked painful. “What can we do for you, Agent Verley?”

Verley almost raised an eyebrow at Hill’s use of ‘we’ but decided against it. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Heard you were back from exile. Wanted to apologize to you.” He glanced at Summers. “Already apologized to Buffy – but. Well. I owe you one, too.”

Misty kicked a chair out for him. “Take a load off.” When that didn’t appear to motivate him to join them, she added, “If you’re gonna do something, do it right.”

He sighed and sank into the chair. “Thanks.” Verley ran a finger gingerly along his healing cheekbone. “I was out of line in the ring. I thought I needed to piss you off to get a real fight. I’m a moron. You’re more than a match for me ice cold – pissing you off turned you into a fucking grenade. I’d rather fight Romanoff in the ring than piss you off again, Hill.”

Wadding up the wrapper from her sandwich, Maria tried to gauge his sincerity. “Romanoff’s deadlier than I am.” Misty snorted, and Maria shot her a look.

“Maybe,” Verley sighed. “Maybe if you were both mad – and I never want to see Romanoff that pissed off, either. Look, I…” he looked away. “I crossed a line. Trash talk is one thing, and I ain’t gonna apologize for ragging on the Corps or you. But bringing other people into it, that’s – not cool.”

“Crap on the Corps all you want,” Maria said pleasantly. Beneath the table, Misty put a hand on Maria’s knee. “I’ll just shovel it back on the Air Force. And I can take whatever shit you can dish out about me.” Her eyes hardened. “You ever talk crap about Coulson, Barton, Romanoff, or any of the Scoobies in front of me again, and I’ll do more than break the other cheekbone. Understood?”

Verley held up his right hand like a man taking an oath. “On my honor, Hill. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good.” Maria relaxed her posture back into the chair, only then realizing she’d been damned near at attention. “You really more scared of me in the ring than the Black Widow?”

“The you that broke my cheekbone, fuck yes,” Verley said with feeling. “Jesus, Hill. You’ve been holding back – I never saw you hit anything that hard.”

Misty quirked a smile at Maria. “Wonder how many tickets we could sell if we set up a match between you and Romanoff.”

Verley started to chuckle. “God, if you decide to do that – let me be the bookmaker. Hill, you’d make bank. Nobody’d believe you could beat her… unless they’d been on the other end of that fist.” He rose and saluted them lazily. “I’ll leave you to your lunch.”

* ~ *

CJ restarted the video of Fury’s conversation with Misty, his eyes fixed this time on the Director’s face. He’d watched it through more than once, carefully teasing words out of the soundless image – but the last repetition, he had caught sight of a flicker that drew his eyes to the sole eye watching Misty. 

It was probably weird that he was sitting in his pajamas in his apartment, watching video of his squad leader and agency boss – unauthorized and very, very illegal video – but CJ found it didn’t bother him. Any hesitation he’d had about it had fled on his second viewing – when he’d realized how tight Misty’s body language was. He’d seen her hands tremble behind her back – did the Director know? CJ doubted it.

That flicker, though… that pricked at his subconscious all throughout the night as he tossed and turned in bed. Something about the Director’s behavior was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he’d bet a month’s wages on it being bad news.

The next morning, before his scheduled shift, CJ knocked on the door to Misty’s apartment. Maria opened the door, looking concerned. “Faireoir?” she asked, surprising CJ. It wasn’t often that Maria used one of their Gaelic names.

“Is Misty up?” He wasn’t surprised to find Maria here. Frankly, he’d have found it stranger if Misty had been alone.

“Yeah, she’s in the kitchen.” Maria held open the door for CJ to come in. “Bunny! CJ’s here!”

Misty came out of the tiny kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Morning, CJ. What’s up? Couldn’t wait for me to get into the office, just had to see me?” She grinned – but beneath the expression there was apprehension.

“The thing I want to talk to you about probably shouldn’t be discussed on SHIELD property.” He accepted her offer of a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with her. “First the confession… I bribed Angie into letting me see the video feed from your meeting with the Director yesterday.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “You had to bribe her for that?”

“She probably would have let me see it either way, but I wanted Misty to blame me instead of Angie if it pissed her off.” He looked down into his coffee. “I’m not even really sure why I needed to see it. I just had a gut feeling, and I’m starting to listen to those.”

“Alright,” Misty said slowly. “So you saw the video. That doesn’t explain why you’re here before shift.”

CJ scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Another gut feeling. I don’t know if you saw it when you were in his office, but there’s something not quite right about the whole thing.”

“I noticed, yeah,” Misty agreed. Under the table, she reached for Maria’s hand and clutched it tightly. CJ caught the movement, but didn’t make an issue of it.

“Okay. Good.” CJ took a drink of coffee and set the mug down again. “I wish I had a specific thing to warn you about, but I don’t. I just… needed to know you were on alert, I guess. That flickery eye thing of his spooks me, Buff.”

“Me too.” The admission was soft, but heartfelt. “I promise I’m paying attention to it, faireoir. I don’t know what I’m looking for yet, but I’m watching too.”

They chatted for a few minutes more while CJ finished his coffee. As he rose to leave, he caught Misty’s elbow. The unexpected physical contact from the least tactile Scooby halted Misty’s movement. “One more thing, Misty,” he said softly. “You aren’t a victim.” At Maria’s sharp intake of breath, CJ shook his head. “No, I mean it. You’re a survivor.” He squeezed her elbow lightly before dropping his hand. “Survivors keep going. Victims get put in body bags. And that’s not fucking happening to you, got it?”

“Yeah.” Misty abandoned her restraint and wrapped CJ in a hug. He tensed momentarily before relaxing into it. She didn’t linger, not wanting to push his limits… but he had hugged back. “Thanks for coming.”

“Anything for you, Buff.”

* ~ *


	41. Chapter 41

Phil sipped from his coffee mug, standing at the rear of the classroom where a fresh batch of victims was learning the rudiments of asset handling. Ostensibly he was evaluating how many he thought would pass the training – rarely more than half the class – but no one was surprised that his eyes landed most often on his protege.

She was holding up well, Phil thought. He’d noticed her flinch twice, but he didn’t think many others would. Hand was a tough instructor, but fair. She didn’t seem to be treating Misty any differently than the other agents.

He watched for as long as his coffee lasted, unable to justify further observation. When he returned to the administrative section, he paused at Maria’s door, knocking lightly on the doorframe. “Have a moment, Hill?”

Maria looked up and smiled. “Sure.” She gestured for him to come in, and he closed the door behind him. “What’s up, chief?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” he said, smiling a little. “Everyone’s been too busy worrying about Misty to ask how you’re holding up.”

“And how’s that relevant?” Maria asked cautiously.

Phil tilted his head to one side and smiled. “Did you forget you’re coming back after a forced vacation? Not to mention you’ve been dealing with a fair amount, being the primary support for a friend after a traumatic incident. Either one of those things would make me worry about you, Ria.”

She twitched a little at the nickname but didn’t object. “I’m okay.” When his expression didn’t change, Maria sighed. “I’ll be okay, is that better? This helps.” She jabbed a finger at the tablet displaying the video feed overlooking Misty’s training class. 

“Angie wire that up for you?”

“Who else?” Maria asked with a small smile. “I didn’t ask for it, and neither did bunny – but it’s relieved both our minds. Angie said you do the same for Clint and Nat…?”

Phil nodded, seating himself in the chair across Maria’s desk. “I do, yes. I’ve managed to wean myself down to only checking a few times an hour now,” he admitted with a laugh. “Though when one of them is fresh from a mission, that goes up.”

“I can’t turn it off,” Maria admitted in a small voice.

He leaned forward and reached for her hand. She gave it to him with only a moment’s hesitation. “She’s only been back two days, Ria. It’s okay to feel a little overprotective. But Psych’s going to have a field day if they catch either of us hovering her. And yes, I’m including myself in that. Goddess knows I’m having trouble not wrapping her in cotton wool myself.”

Maria’s eyebrows shot up. She thought she knew why her own emotions were tightly wound in Misty’s security – but that surely wasn’t Phil’s motivation?

“She’s my protege,” Phil said gently. “My clanmate, and as far as I’m concerned, another little sister. Of course I’m concerned. I also know that she’d gut punch me if she thought I was letting my worry over her interrupt her career.” He looked momentarily concerned. “Actually, she might aim a little lower than my gut, depending on how severely she thought I was interfering.”

As he’d hoped, it made Maria chuckle. “She respects Natasha too much to castrate you, Chief.”

“Thanks,” he drawled. “It’s so good to know that it’s admiration of my wife that keeps her from resorting to such matters.” He released her hand and stood. “If you decide you want to talk to someone who isn’t Psych, my door is always open to you, laoch scail.”

“I appreciate that, Phil,” Maria murmured. “And if… when… I’m ready… you’ll be the first person I talk to.”

~ * ~

Misty dragged her tired body – and mind – into Maria’s office when Agent Hand finally released them from class. It wasn’t as though the curriculum had been physically demanding, but Misty was utterly exhausted nonetheless. She’d been in close proximity to non-clanmate agents all day, with the exception of her lunch break spent with her ducks, and now she wanted only to go home, change into PJs, and watch a documentary on her couch with Maria.

“You look fried,” Maria said, not unkindly. She locked her computer and tucked the video tablet into her briefcase. She’d been half packed for at least an hour, anticipating Misty’s arrival. “You ready to get out of here? I could go for some Chinese and whatever’s showing on History 2.”

“You read my mind,” Misty sighed. She ran a hand through her hair, disrupting blonde strands that had already escaped her ponytail. “Add PJs to that, and you’ve got nirvana.”

Maria grinned and set her briefcase down long enough to wrap Misty in a tight hug. Misty immediately burrowed her head into Maria’s neck, making a soft noise of contentment. “It looked like you handled your first day well though, bunny.”

“Yeah, it was okay.” Misty stayed there a moment long, needing to soak up the physical contact as a bolster for the drive home. “You’re right though, Hand’s hardcore by-the-book. I can see why she and Sensei don’t always jive. Just in the scenarios she laid out today, I could see a half dozen ways Sensei would have made a different call.”

“For the purposes of the course, do it Hand’s way,” Maria advised, running her hands up and down Misty’s back. “After you’ve passed it, Phil and I can tell you all about when to ignore the book.”

Another five minutes passed before Misty sighed and pulled away. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I want to go home.”

Half an hour later, they were ensconced on Misty’s thrift-store couch – which was hideously ugly in harvest gold floral velvet, but comfortable – with an afghan tucked around them. Misty had donned her ‘Rubber Duckie, You’re The One!’ pajamas, and Maria was in her ‘Just Ducky’ set. A documentary on the excavation of Karnak Temple in Egypt was playing, and food was already on the way. 

Misty let out a soft, contented sigh as she cuddled into Maria’s side. There was literally nowhere else she’d rather be, and no one else she’d rather share it with. The only way this could possibly be better, she decided drowsily, was if she dared turn her head just a fraction more into Maria’s shoulder and press a kiss there. But… no. She would resist. Maria wasn’t ready for that. She had one foot out of the closet… barely… but not enough for Misty to think that she was prepared for anything more than this.

The doorbell rang and Maria rose to answer it, padding across the room in her ducky slippers with no self-consciousness. She paid for the meal – tipping the delivery driver well – and brought it to the coffee table in front of the couch. She passed Misty the Mongolian beef and fried rice; the sweet and sour chicken and steamed rice she kept for herself. As Maria settled back into the couch, she felt herself relaxing further. Food, history, comfort… and Misty. All the ingredients for a good evening. Moments like these made her forget the stress of her job – all the paperwork and bullshit that went along with her Deputy Director title. None of that mattered right now, with her bunny tucked up safe next to her, looking adorable in her polar fleece Sesame Street pajamas. Emotion welled up in her that she didn’t dare analyze. Instead, Maria shoved it aside. Now wasn’t the time. Misty was recovering from a trauma, after all. Maria’s internal conflict could wait.

They curled up together like a pair of kittens, well-fed and sleepy, and learned about the Eighteen Dynasty’s major construction projects in the Precinct of Amun-Re.

~ * ~

//diary excerpt//  
_I saw her again today. She did not recognize me. Does she remember nothing of our time together? I must have used too high of a dose. I must consult with the creator of the compound – I expected her to have some recollection. I suppose it has not been long enough to determine if the memory loss is permanent. She looks even more breathtaking than before our romantic interlude. Her soul must be nourished by our time together, even if her mind does not recall it. She has unfurled like a rose in the light of my love. I did not feed from her during our time together, but to see her today, it was all I could do not to bare her neck and drink my fill of her. So beautiful is my Slayer – so strong. So fitting, as the Chosen One. Her blood must taste of honey and power. She surrounds herself now with those who aid her in her calling – her Watcher Giles, her best friend Willow, even that pissant Xander. No matter. She will know she belongs with me soon enough. Who else but I, William the Bloody, can truly know her? What is my Buffy without her Spike? In time, she will come to me. The lure of our forbidden love cannot be ignored forever… and then I will possess my Slayer entirely._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap for Best Laid Plans... stay tuned for Unraveling, the next ARROW yarn. (And no, this is not going to become a BtVS crossover, I promise.)


End file.
